


ACAB

by orphan_account



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Future, Anal Sex, Angst, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Espionage, Frottage, M/M, Magic, Mental Health Issues, POV Third Person Omniscient, Parkour, Revolution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-23 14:40:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 98,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/927699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the year 3013, Camelot is under the strict rule of Uther and his police force of Protectors. The dystopian city is overpopulated and struggling with massive crimes despite (or possibly because of) police brutality. A gang of anarchists called the Knights certainly aren't helping things either, so Uther dispatches his only son Arthur to go undercover and take them down from the inside. However, the Knights teach Arthur the meaning of family, and with their guidance he sees Uther for what he really is: a tyrant. Oh, and he also falls in love with the dope-smoking, free-running scout named Merlin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> Partially inspired by [this](http://neuroticnick.tumblr.com/post/33749036937) tumblr post. Thanks to super amazing betas [moon01234](http://moon01234.livejournal.com/) and [misakikinomoto](http://misakikinomoto.livejournal.com/). Hugs and kisses to the best cheerleader in the world, [malu_3](http://malu-3.livejournal.com/). Also cheers to [k_nightfox](http://k-nightfox.livejournal.com/) and [deminos001](http://deminos001.livejournal.com/) for helping me with PTSD, along with [amphigoury](http://amphigoury.livejournal.com/) and [fuckyeah](http://fuckyeah.livejournal.com/) for finding the perfect songs to start a revolution to. And of course the amazing artist [silver_falcon24](http://silver-falcon24.livejournal.com/) who brought my words to life (and who deserves lovely, lovely comments at the [art masterpost](http://silver-falcon24.livejournal.com/149530.html)) Thank you so much! All of you are awesome and this wouldn't have been possible without you!
> 
> Look at the notes at the end and win a PUPPY! Or maybe just a fanmix. Probably a fanmix.  
> (Spoiler: it's a [fanmix](http://neuroticnick.livejournal.com/45948.html))

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “My experience of life is that it is not divided up into genres; it’s a horrifying, romantic, tragic, comical, science-fiction cowboy detective novel. You know, with a bit of pornography if you're lucky.” - Alan Moore

The wind was cold but Merlin didn’t feel it. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt and joggers, along with a beanie that protected his large ears and kept his tousled hair in check. But for all that he was exposed to the autumn chill, the adrenaline pumping through his body kept him from noticing.

He loved this hour of the day, when everyone was just about to wake up. The dark sky was fading to pink over the city skyline, causing the tallest buildings to glow as the sun rose behind them. His city.

Okay, he didn’t _own_ the city, but it certainly felt like that when he was running and jumping and flipping from building to building without a care in the world.

Merlin vaulted off the edge of one roof and just barely managed to grab hold of the other on the opposite side. A quick glance below told him he’d just evaded certain death. He ran up the side of a partition and pushed himself up and over. Running with a smile so wide made his mouth dry, and he licked his chapped lips. He ran up to the air conditioning unit, jumped and thrust his hands forward to propel himself over, and landed neatly on his feet.

Finally, he made it to the top of the tallest building in the city, the Protectors’ tower. His heart swelled with pride (and the need for oxygen) as he watched the sun rise over the metropolis skyline. He spread his arms, closed his eyes, and faced the heavens. He was close to the edge and looked like he was about to take a leap of faith straight into the pavement below, but he was really just about to finish his morning routine.

He drew in a great breath and yelled, “MY NAME IS MERLIN EMRYS. YOUR LIFE IS A MEANINGLESS WINK OF EXISTENCE. NOW WAKE UP AND GO ABOUT YOUR MISERABLE DAY, YOU PATHETIC MOTHERFUCKERS!”

The Protectors had tried for months to stop Merlin from climbing up their tower and shouting every morning, had even set out snipers that would fire warning shots at him. Now they just gave up and let him do his thing. Sometimes on clear, summer mornings his yell would cause a few lights in surrounding buildings to flicker on. But on a chilly, late-September dawn such as this, his voice was carried away by the wind. Still, it was a great way to start one’s day, standing on top of the world.

Merlin smiled one more time at the golden glow of the sun over the city, then ran back the way he came.

“This has got to stop.”

Arthur Pendragon, age twenty, was still very much afraid of his father. Uther Pendragon was the head of the police force (or the Protectors) in Camelot. In the year 3013, being a Protector meant more than just catching thieves, arresting whores, and those who disturbed the peace. In fact, sometimes it meant espionage, which was why Arthur was sitting in his father’s office today.

“I will _not_ have a group of children wreaking havoc on my city, day in and day out. It’s time they all spent a night behind bars and had their guardians take them back home to whatever posh lifestyle they thought they were too good for.”

Arthur nodded, though he knew the youngest of the gang was at least his age, hardly a child. The oldest had been estimated to be about thirty, but he didn’t bother pointing this out to his father.

“What do you propose we do?” Arthur asked.

Uther stopped pacing. “You’re young and still in training, so nobody will have seen you on patrol yet. If we want to catch these hoodlums, we’ll have to do it from the inside.”

Arthur nodded in understanding.

“Not a single officer has been able to track down their hideout. I want you to go see Morgana. She’ll give you the details.” Uther waved a hand in dismissal and Arthur stood to leave. “Be careful, Arthur. These kids are dangerous.”

“Yes, Father.”

As he closed the door to his father’s office behind him, he wondered what made the gang—the Knights, as they called themselves—so dangerous. All he’d ever heard about them was what everyone knew: the vandalism, the theft, and the occasional riot-inciting behaviour that left the Protectors with a media nightmare. There had been one riot a couple years back, but things had calmed down since then.

There were also rumours of heavy drug use, but then, those could be only rumours.

Arthur supposed Uther feared them because if one gang formed, another surely would. And if not that, then one day they might try to encourage anarchy.

Arthur shook his head. It was, by far, a long shot. He thought of the group only as people who wanted to give a big two finger salute to society and do things their way. They were nothing to fear, surely.

“Arthur,” Morgana greeted him when he entered her cosy workplace.

“Afternoon, Morgana.”

“This is it, your first big break, huh?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“This case is your first chance to prove yourself as a worthy member of the Protectors. Isn’t it exciting?”

“You sound excited enough for the both of us. Besides, to me it’s more like being thrown into the lion’s den. I’m still in _training._ ”

“Oh, it is, to be sure,” she nodded, suddenly serious. “That was as a sister. As your superior, I must inform you that this is the most delicate of matters. The future of Camelot depends on you. No pressure.”

Morgana smiled sweetly and Arthur snorted. “How about you just give me the details so I can get on with this already?”

“Initiative, good. Alright, let’s get down to business.” She swivelled in her chair, collected an array of folders and swivelled back around.

“These,” she intoned dramatically, “are the Knights of Camelot.”

She slid the first folder over and Arthur tried not to roll his eyes. He opened the cream-coloured folder and saw a man with bulging biceps and piercing eyes.

“Percival, the muscle. He’s like their bodyguard. Someone gets on the Knights’ bad side, they have to deal with him.”

Arthur raised a worried eyebrow, but Morgana quickly reassured him.

“Don’t worry, the reports say if you don’t mess with him, he’s actually a pretty decent bloke.”

She slid the next folder across the table. “Elyan. He’s their tech guy. Kind of a genius, and expert hacker before he joined the Knights. He’s a whiz at computers even in today’s modern age.” Arthur thought she sounded kind of impressed.

“Next, Gwen, Elyan’s sister. We can only assume she’s the help, seeing as she’s rarely been sighted. No doubt the men have her fulfilling some sexist role, wherever they’re holed up.

“Lance, Gwen’s boyfriend. He’s good at making things. Carpentry, mechanics, you name it. He and Elyan often work together to create toys that pose minor threats. He’s also not seen much outside of their hideout.

“Merlin is their scout and messenger boy and pretty much everything else. You’ll want to watch out for him, as he’s known to be by far the most mental of the group. They actually call him the Mad Scout. Usually, he’s the first one people mention when they tell their friends about the gang, and is why their reputation is what it is. He’s usually seen running on rooftops and signals the presence of Knights in the area. Merlin’s the youngest, at twenty years old, but also the most dangerous. As you can see, his file is the largest, as there’s a lot of speculation on his mental stability and drug addiction. Just be wary of him.

“Then finally, their leader, Leon. He’s the oldest, the wisest, the bravest, and is definitely the brains behind the whole thing. If anyone in there has information, it’s him. You’ll want to shadow him as much as possible, but don’t, for the love of Camelot, get yourself caught.”

Arthur tried not to let his growing anxiety show and spread the files open in a semicircle around him. He wondered what they all had in common that made them want to ransack a perfectly respectable city. Except Merlin, who didn’t exactly need a reason, but for the hell of it.

There wasn’t much to go by. No hobbies and interests section, or previous places of employment. They all seemed to just come out of nowhere, with no background whatsoever.

Maybe the hacker, Elyan, had wiped it all. Maybe they really were just a bunch of nobodies. Either way, it was Arthur’s job to flesh out these skeletal files and rid the city of a nuisance, and by the gods he would do it.

Merlin spotted him long before he even reached the first checkpoint. As scout, it was his job to watch for such things. He laughed as he watched the boy stare hopelessly at the wrinkled paper in his hand.

The new recruit—Arthur he said his name was—had only passed the first test. Though Merlin had never had to endure the trial himself, he liked to imagine that he’d do much better than the others that had. To be a Knight, one had to be sharp, and passing the trial was just one test of perseverance and loyalty.

Merlin launched himself onto frog legs and peered once again over the edge below, watching the blond with keen interest.

Arthur knew getting the Knights’ attention would be difficult, but he’d managed to do it, hanging around long enough in their favourite vandalised area to finally lure out one of their recruiters, or “squires” as they liked to call them.

He’d given the man his name and in return he received a piece of paper with what seemed to be a simple instruction on it. The squire had disappeared before Arthur could ask a single question.

After a minute of staring stupidly at the words on the paper, he decided he’d better try to make some progress before it got dark.

Now it was an hour and a half later and he’d only gotten past the first test. “ _Take a Rest by the End, then Right, then Left, and Right again,_ ” the line had instructed.

He’d figured out that easily. Go to the hotel on Enders Street, turn right, left, then right again. As he had turned into the alley he saw the next white piece of paper flutter down to the street in front of him, accompanied by a shadow passing overhead and a faint chuckle in the wind.

 _Merlin_ , Arthur identified him, _the free runner_.

“ _Give me food and I will live; give me water and I will die_ ,” the next note read. Arthur got it after only a few minutes and looked around for the nearest source of fire.

That was easier said than done, however. He looked at people smoking against street corners, but what would he do with the fire once he had it? It made more sense for the next letter to be in some fireproof bag in the midst of flames he’d have to douse.

A good twelve minutes passed and he thought he heard amused chuckling from above him. When he finally dared to look up, expecting to see a wild-eyed Merlin, the sun blinded him and he covered his hand with his face.

Which is when he felt like an utter idiot for not realising sooner. The sun. Of course it was the sun.

He held up the paper to the light and the rays shone through to reveal a hidden message. “ _I run, but never walk. I have a mouth, but never talk. I have a head but I never weep. I have a bed, but I never sleep._ ”

Arthur went through all the things in his mind but could only think of a few things that fit into one category. Noses ran, and never walked. Animals had mouths and never talked. Pillows didn’t have a bed, but they were in one, and they certainly never slept. Statues had heads that never wept. But he couldn’t think of anything that had all four in common.

He sighed. He felt as if he was back where he started.

“He got it,” Merlin sang into his headset.

“About time,” Elyan’s voice came back through the earpiece. “He might actually finish.”

“Doubtful. He looks just as confused as before now that he’s read the hidden message.”

“Well, at least he made it farther than the others.”

“I wish he’d give up already. It’s getting cold out here,” Merlin complained.

“Says the person who never wears a jacket,” Gwen cut in.

“Oh hiya, Mother. And I’ve told you, jackets slow me down. They get in the way when I’m running and I always get hot. Might as well not wear one.”

“You could always wear those tight-fitting ones. Or you know, something with sleeves,” she suggested.

“Sleeves don’t come ‘til snow. You know that.”

Merlin could practically hear the eye-roll and longed again to be home with the rest of them. That was the only trouble with being the scout; it got lonely and he often had to find creative ways to distract himself.

“Hey, he’s moving again.” Merlin jumped to his feet. “I’ll tell you if he’s on the right track in a few. Out.” Merlin turned off his earpiece and followed Arthur silently from above.

It wasn’t a far walk to the nearest river, just a mile or so east and he’d be standing right at the mouth. This river was man-made, during the 2800s if Arthur remembered correctly.

 The head of the Protectors at the time decided it would add to the “architectural appeal” of the city, so he destroyed the slums there and ran a river through it. Thousands of people lost their homes but the city itself earned a tonne of money from the tourists that flooded in to be at the grand opening.

Arthur made it to the bridge in fourteen minutes. He waited another three, not sure what to do from there. He felt stupid looking around and worried that he’d gotten it wrong. Eventually there was the steady sound of splashing and he saw the squire from earlier rowing up in a small canoe. He now wore the uniform of the boat ride tour guide, but still had the same shifty smile. He pulled into the dock near the bridge and gestured for Arthur to get in.

The man rowed at a leisurely pace that had Arthur tapping his shoe impatiently. Feeling the boat tip slightly though, he stopped and settling for drumming his fingers on his kneecaps.

Finally, the squire stopped at the last dock on the tour and Arthur got out. Without a word or even a glance, the man paddled back the way he came. Resting on the dock, beneath a coiled bit of rope was what Arthur hoped to be the last note.

“ _The man who invented it doesn’t want it. The man who bought it doesn’t need it. The man who needs it doesn’t know it._ ”

The first thing that came to Arthur’s mind, irrationally, was a haircut, but then he surveyed his surroundings. No hair cuttery in sight. There was however a bit of a morbid sign in a funeral parlour, claiming “Coffins for SALE. Buy one, get the other one FREE.”

Somehow he knew this would be the final riddle, and that their hideout lay within the parlour. He twisted the silver ring on his thumb as nonchalantly as possible to activate the cameras in his contact lenses and the microphone on the ring itself. He walked briskly to the shop door.

A bell signalled his entrance and the man at the counter looked up at him. Arthur recognised him as Leon from the files, and his heart raced at the knowledge that he was in the right place.

“How can I help you today sir?”

At first, Arthur didn’t know what to say. He stood there doe-eyed for what seemed to him an hour but was really five seconds.

“Uh, yes, I was wondering if you also sold urns? My mum wanted to be _burned_ and have some of her ashes thrown in the _river_. She wasn’t keen on her corpse rotting in a _coffin_.” Arthur made some slapdash attempt at putting all the clues together in the hopes that he was doing the right thing.

Luckily, Leon smiled and gestured for him to follow. “This way, sir.”

Arthur followed him to a room littered with coffins thrown haphazardly about and covered in spider webs. Leon walked up to one that was leaning perfectly erect against a wall and opened the lid to reveal a hidden staircase.

“After you, Arthur.”

The gang was in a bit of an uproar. Elyan and Gwen were excited at the prospect of someone new joining. Lance was wary of the stranger and lingered near Gwen protectively. Percival eyed him, sizing him up, but didn’t care much either way about the new guy. Merlin sat perched on a bar that hung from the ceiling, like a bird watching from far away with interest.

For all his cockiness, Merlin was actually quite shy, and didn’t shake hands with the new boy. He simply nodded a hello when their eyes met briefly and left it at that, content to be ignored for the rest of the evening.

One member Arthur had not been informed about was Gaius, a man who looked to be in his seventies, maybe even eighties if he was healthy for his age. It was no wonder; he probably never left the hideout, or the Castle as they had named it. These guys clearly had a thing for all things medieval.

Everyone went silent as Gaius came forth and greeted him. “Welcome, Arthur. It has been a long time since someone new entered these old halls. I congratulate you and wish you luck.”

Leon coughed. “Right then. Just one more thing left to take care of.” He stepped forward to bug check him but Elyan put a hand to his chest.

“Actually, I’ve taken care of it. I managed to fix the x-ray machine in the time that passed since Merlin’s, er, request.”

Merlin laughed naughtily somewhere, but could no longer be seen.

“Where’d the lunatic go anyways?” Leon asked, wondering the same as Arthur.

“Probably back to his chambers to make it suitable,” Lance supplied.

“We haven’t got any more rooms? Are you sure?”

“Unless you want him to sleep in the Dungeon,” Elyan said. “And Merlin has the biggest room.”

Leon still looked uncertain. Everyone was thinking the same thing: either one of them could give up their room and share with Merlin, or the new guy could. None of their rooms were big enough for two occupants. With a few meaningful glances at each other, it was decided.

Leon patted Arthur encouragingly on the back. “Well, let’s show you to your room then.”

Merlin couldn’t keep still. He jumped from swinging platform to swinging platform, hung upside down, rocked back and forth in his bed, paced a bit, then finally decided, fuck it, and pulled out a spliff. A few deep drags and he was calm.

The steel door to his chamber slid open. He gave a bleary-eyed nod to Leon and Arthur.

“It’s the most spacious room. Merlin seems to need it,” Leon was explaining. “But still plenty of space for you. Here’s your bed, your dresser, and wardrobe. There’s some small things like toothbrushes and hand mirrors in the main store room. Anything else you need we’ll get for you. Until of course you learn to get it for yourself.” Leon looked about the room then rested his gaze again on Arthur, who stood with his arms at his side limply.

“That’s about it. I’ll leave you to get acquainted with Merlin.” He turned and looked pointedly at the pale man spread-eagled on the floor, smoke rising from the joint in the mouth. “And for gods’ sake Merlin, try to behave.”

“G’bye Mum.” Merlin waved him away.

After Leon left, Arthur felt that he really had quite literally been thrown into the lion’s den. Here he was, roommates with the one person he’d been told to avoid. He hadn’t seen anything yet, but if the Knights were that worried about Merlin misbehaving and were none too eager to room with him, maybe all the rumours he’d heard were true. Merlin could really be the most dangerous member in the gang.

Arthur sat on his new bed and looked around more intently, giving his sister on the other end of the cameras a good view. Merlin stared at him blatantly and Arthur made an effort not to catch his eye. Then Merlin started laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Merlin drawled and kept laughing hysterically.

“Then why are you laughing?”

“I’ve no idea.”

After a few minutes more of uncontrollable laughter, it finally came to a gradual stop, with a few hiccups every so often.

“Are you always like this?” Arthur asked, hesitantly. He didn’t want to trigger some sort of manic wrath.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Like...delirious?”

“You’re asking if there’s ever a time when I’m serious. Normal.” It wasn’t a question. Arthur nodded in response anyway. “When I’m alone. All. Alone.” The look in his eyes confirmed Arthur’s suspicions about Merlin’s mental state and he decided he’d tread more carefully.

“So what do you do for fun in this place?”

“Shh.”

Arthur raised a curious eyebrow but remained quiet all the same.

Merlin took a final hit from his joint and crushed it beside him. He raised his arms perpendicular above his prone body and laughed giddily.

“Me arms. Me wee little arms! They’re like chicken legs!” he exclaimed. Merlin waved his lean arms above him and marvelled at the grace of them. He felt as though he was levitating, lying on a cloud and using his arms to paddle through the air currents.

All of a sudden the pale limbs dropped and Merlin lay sprawled like a corpse, but his breath was obviously coming slow and heavy in his chest. Arthur just watched with wide eyes. He’d never seen someone high before.

When Merlin rolled and managed to stand up, Arthur got a closer look at the scout’s eyes. They were blown wide and were incredibly grey-blue, like storm clouds just beginning to go away after a summer rain. Arthur felt an odd tug in his chest as he looked into them and they looked back just as piercingly.

He was so focused on figuring out the mystery behind those eyes that he didn’t notice them getting closer until they were right in front of his face, and the smell of marijuana overwhelmed him.

Merlin stayed like that a while, his head lowered to Arthur’s level and swaying side to side, like a bird curiously contemplating something new in its cage. Arthur was too confused and honestly, a bit frightened, to do anything but stare back.

“Hmm.” Merlin grunted then. “Fergot what I was gonna say.”

He spun around unsteadily, lost his footing, and ended up face down on the floor. He didn’t get up, but he did remember what he was going to say.

“If ya touch my stuff. I’ll take yer bollocks. And I’ll shove ‘em down yer throat,” he said cheerily.

“Same goes to you,” Arthur replied in what he hoped wasn’t a shaky voice.

“Glad we’ve come to an understanding. Now go ‘way.” Merlin flicked his wrist in the direction of the door half-heartedly.

Arthur, who had nothing to unpack and was eager to get out and explore anyway, left willingly. He made his way back to the main atrium, mostly because he didn’t want to get lost in the long narrow corridors that all looked the same.

He found Gwen and Lance sitting at a table looking at a three dimensional blueprint. It looked like some sort of new device, but for what purpose Arthur couldn’t tell.

Just as he approached, the hologram disappeared and Lance shut off his design tablet. Gwen looked over her shoulder and smiled when she saw Arthur.

“All settled in?” she asked, waving for Arthur to join them at the table.

Arthur took a seat and shrugged, but smiled politely. “I didn’t bring anything so there wasn’t much to be done but be creeped out by Merlin.”

The couple laughed at that. “It certainly smells like he’s been up to his old antics again,” Lance remarked, nodding to Arthur’s clothes.

“Yeah, about that. Is he always that way?” Arthur questioned.

Lance snorted but Gwen’s expression softened. “Not all the time. He’s a decent enough bloke, he’s just...”

“A druggie,” Lance supplied.

Gwen didn’t deny it. “Well. He’s good at being a scout and that’s a good enough reason to keep him round.”

Arthur could tell there was something else, though. “But?”

“But Merlin is like a little brother to me. He’s got the potential to be something so much more and he just wastes it. It’s disappointing. I don’t want him to be such a liability but if he keeps up at the rate he’s going...” She sighed the rest of her sentence and Lance placed his hands comfortingly over hers.

“And the rumours about...he’s not completely mental, is he?”

They both laughed again. “He’s fucking insane,” Lance stated bluntly.

Gwen shook her head, still chuckling. “No. He’s not crazy, he’s just a bit weird. But he’s just as sane and as intelligent as you or I.”

“I have yet to witness such evidence,” Lance said.

“It’s true, though. He knows what he’s doing when he has to make quick decisions on the outside. Sometimes even more so than Leon.”

“Don’t let him catch you saying that.”

Arthur cut in. “So he’s not unstable? He won’t try to kill me in my sleep?”

Lance threw his head back with laughter but Gwen frowned deeply. She slapped Lance’s arm to get him to quit then looked back to Arthur.

“Is that really what people say about him?” She looked concerned.

Arthur shifted in his seat. “Not exactly. Just that he’s dangerous.”

“Who’s dangerous?” Percival’s deep voice sounded through the room suddenly as he sauntered in.

“Merlin,” Lance replied with a smirk full of meaning.

“Ah.” Percival sunk into the chair next to Arthur and rested his arm on the back right near Arthur’s head. Arthur tried not to tense up too visibly.

“He’s not dangerous to those he cares about. Just those Leon sets him loose on,” Lance explained to Arthur.

Gwen slapped his arm again. “Lance! Merlin is not an animal!”

“Coulda fooled me what with hanging around and climbing about like a monkey.”

Percival’s responding laugh was deep and resounding. The man’s relaxed laughter calmed Arthur, who had been on high alert.

“Both of you are terrible,” Gwen said disapprovingly.

“Sorry, Mother,” Percival apologised. “But it’s not like it bothers him. He knows his reputation. Might even kind of like it,” he added with a wink in Arthur’s direction.

“What makes you say that?” Arthur asked.

Percival stretched his limbs then folded his arms impressively across his chest. “This’ll be just one of the many things you learn about us Knights in your first few weeks here. First thing: We don’t like to kill people,” he said matter-of-factly. “We’re not the bad guys. The Protectors are the bad guys.”

“I know that,” Arthur made sure to interrupt. “That’s why I joined in the first place.”

“Yeah. Just making sure. I know there’s a lot of shit going around about us being miscreant kids that vandalise and steal and kill innocent people, like we’re some sort of gang. We’re not a gang. We’re a cult.”

Lance laughed heartily again. “We are _not_ a cult, mate. We’re more like a...a group of people that work towards the goal of seeing the Protectors dethroned.”

“Like anarchists?” Arthur suggested.

“Yeah. Exactly like that. We’re a group of anarchists.” Percival, Lance, and even Gwen nodded. Morgana was probably grinning madly over this footage back at the tower. It was basically a confession.

“So as I was saying,” Percival continued. “We’re not cold hearted killers. We don’t enjoy killing people. But we do it when we have to. At first it was just me, for the obvious reasons.” He flexed and the others rolled their eyes.

“Then Merlin joined and after...well, let’s just say he proved he could handle it as well. Nobody else in the Knights can stomach dead bodies as well as us, so we do the dirty work.”

Lance made a face just thinking about it.

“But what makes you say he likes his reputation as a mental case?” Arthur asked again.

Percival sighed. “I suppose you’ll see tomorrow when you’re out with him.”

They sat in silence for a while and Arthur was burning to ask more questions but he seemed to have asked enough for one night. Then a timer went off somewhere and Gwen jumped up.

“Dinner’s on!”

“Dinner” turned out to be some kind of stew that Arthur eyed in distaste. The rest of the gang though had dug in immediately as if it were their favourite meal.

“If you don’t eat that, mate, I most certainly will,” Merlin whispered next to Arthur.

“At least try it first,” Gwen encouraged. All who were seated at the round table laughed.

“Insulting the cook on the first day isn’t the best way to make friends,” Elyan teased.

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean any offence, I just. Never had anything like this before.” He brought his nose closer to the steam. “But it smells nice so I suppose...”

He dipped his spoon into the thick stew and stirred it a bit, observing the contents. There were carrots, potatoes, celery, and some kind of meat Arthur couldn’t identify. He sampled the broth first and, finding it to his liking, dared to add some vegetables to his next spoonful.

The Knights watched him take these first two bites. Arthur looked up and raised his thumb. When he swallowed he asked, “What’s the, uh—”

“Rabbit,” Lance said with a grin.

“Er, why rabbit?”

Merlin snorted as he spooned his own meal into his mouth. “’Course you don’t know,” he muttered. “Probably lived in the lap of luxury before you fell from grace like the rest of ‘em.”

“Most food these days, meat especially, is genetically engineered. Nutritionally enhanced,” Elyan explained, ignoring Merlin.

“It is?” Arthur frowned. Why had he never heard about this?

“Well, they _say_ it’s enhanced but it actually isn’t all that good for you. It’s scientifically proven to increase brain stimulation and reasoning abilities, but it’s also a drain on the body,” Elyan continued. “It’s essentially poison.”

“And people just eat it anyways?” Arthur was appalled.

“They don’t know any better. All the information on genetically modified food has been erased to keep them ignorant.”

“Then how do you know?”

Elyan laughed. “I’m a hacker. I just did a little digging.”

Arthur pursed his lips in contemplation but finally dared to ask. “Does Uther know or is it all the scientists’ doing? Surely he wouldn’t allow this.”

Merlin snorted again. “Oh, he just loves it. Population control,” he said bitterly. “Fake food makes for smarter citizens but also shortens their lifespan.”

Arthur understood. “Good for business and good for the crowded streets.” _That’s why whenever we ate out at public events…_ Arthur reflected. _He’s kept me completely in the dark this whole time. And then just pushed me out into the world to do his bidding!_ _What else has my family been keeping from me?_

Arthur sighed and dug into the stew. It wasn’t the professionally prepared meals he was used to but it was better than poison. He avoided the pitying expressions of the Knights, but he felt his knee being squeezed softly under the table. It was Merlin.

The first night went about as Arthur had expected.

After dinner, he and Merlin walked back to their chamber, Merlin humming contentedly. Once there, Merlin put on headphones and listened to music whilst hanging from one of the horizontal bars, ignoring Arthur completely. He didn’t know what song Merlin was listening to, but he always hummed the same tune.

Arthur lay back and catalogued all the information he’d gathered so far. The location of the hideout was the most important: end of the man-made river, funeral parlour on the left, coffin in the back room. Then there were the people themselves. They all seemed nice, friendly even, much less intimidating than their files suggested. And Gaius was an unexpected development. It could be him, not Leon, who was the brains of it all. Morgana would be pleased.

He twisted his ring and shut off the feedback to the tower. He immediately felt better somehow. It was odd knowing that everything he saw and heard was being monitored.

It was also disconcerting knowing he’d been purposefully left ignorant of the catastrophic effects “normal” food had on society. He’d have to ask Morgana more about that when he reported to her, but for now he couldn’t trouble himself with it. He had to focus on the mission.

Arthur turned and watched Merlin swing back and forth innocently and utterly at peace. The others seemed to be normal, honest people, simply with different views than the rest of Camelot, and therefore caught in a bad situation. Merlin was, as Gwen had said, just weird.

Merlin swung around the bar, flipped, and landed on his feet, snapping Arthur out of his thoughts.

“Sleep,” was all Merlin said and the lights went out.

He heard the scout throw his shoes somewhere and climb into bed. Arthur slipped off his trainers and pulled the blanket over his head.

All was silent until the mumbling began.

Arthur was just about to drift off into dreamland when he heard it, low and breathy and barely audible.

He poked his head out of his warm cocoon and looked over at his new roommate. “Merlin?” he whispered.

Merlin didn’t respond so Arthur assumed he was asleep. In a way the low mumbling was soothing background noise, like rain against a window, and soon Arthur nodded off as well.

Hours later, Merlin woke with a start, sweaty and breathless.

“NO!” he screamed.

Arthur jumped to wakefulness but made no sound. He listened intently to the sounds of rustling clothing as Merlin dressed. When the door opened, he could see Merlin rubbing his eyes in the light from the hallway.

He wanted to follow. He desperately wanted to follow this mysterious boy and find out what the hell had happened to him in the night. Arthur looked around for a clock, but couldn’t find one. Did time mean anything to them down here?

He finally got up and decided that if he was caught he’d say he was looking for the toilet, which very well might have been just where Merlin was heading, but Arthur had a feeling that wasn’t the case.

Out in the dim corridor, he felt a feeling of dread wash over him. What if he got lost? It was like a maze down here. He knew that turning right would take him to the main area eventually, but what about left?

Feeling suddenly adventurous, Arthur twisted his ring and went left.

Merlin was yanked from sleep by his own screams. He’d dreamt of _that_ night again, the night of the July Riot. He slid a clammy palm down his face and stood up. He knew there was no getting back to sleep. He might as well go talk to Kilgharrah.

He pulled on the first pair of shorts he found and started off toward the phone room. Kilgharrah, as always, made him wait until the fifth ring.

“Hello Merlin.”

“Hey.”

“I suppose this call, like many others, is simply a social one.”

“It is.”

“How often must I reiterate? I have no time for petty matters such as these.”

“And yet you never tell me what it is you are so busy doing,” Merlin quipped.

“It is not yet time. But soon. You must be patient.”

Merlin had never seen Kilgharrah, only heard his voice. It was deep and sounded ancient and all too wise. The man on the other end seemed to enjoy keeping Merlin in the dark about certain things.

It was Kilgharrah who had called first. Merlin had been running leisurely around when the phone had suddenly started ringing. In the five years that Merlin had been with the Knights, it had never rung, had simply been a mysterious phone box of which nobody knew the origins. But nearly a year ago and only a few times since, it _had_ rung. Normally Kilgharrah let the Knights do things their own way, but when he needed to inform them of urgent matters or suggest a new course of action, he called and gave vital information which Merlin then relayed to the Knights.

He would speak to nobody but Merlin.

Kilgharrah was like a god. He seemed to have eyes everywhere and know everything. They didn’t worship him—they didn’t worship anything—but when they were in a tight spot, they fervently hoped that somehow Kilgharrah would get them out of it in his infinite wisdom.

“Fine fine fine,” Merlin replied impatiently. “Have you got the time, by the way?”

“Time for you to embrace your destiny.”

The line went dead and Merlin cursed the mystery man as he slammed the phone down.

Somehow, Arthur ended up in front of a door with a phone symbol.

He hadn’t even realised where his feet were taking him, just turning at random corners and hoping for the best. And then there he was.

He peered through the square window and saw Merlin stepping out of an outdated red phone box. The room was covered in colourful shoeprints and had different levels and platforms. Probably some sort of play area for Merlin to run in that also functioned as a phone room.

But who could Merlin of all people have to talk to, and this late at night? And who used wired telephones like that nowadays? Realising Merlin was making for the exit, Arthur stepped back and retreated to the nearest intersection of the hallway and pretended to look lost.

“Arthur?”

He turned around and saw a tired looking Merlin. “Merlin.”

“What are you doing awake?”

“Looking for the toilet.”

They stared at each other for an infinite moment until Merlin finally screwed his face into a wide smile, which Arthur immediately pinned as fake.

“You’re way off, mate. Come on, this way!”

Merlin sounded way too cheery and bubbly at this hour and Arthur wondered if maybe the whole mental thing was an act. But like at the dinner table, Merlin had surprised him with his touch, pressing an open palm lightly on the centre of his back to move him in the right direction. They went back to the main atrium and crossed to the opposite hallway.

“This is where the rest of their rooms are. I guess Gaius and I are kind of isolated like that,” Merlin explained.

“Where does Gaius sleep?” Arthur asked.

“Oh, he’s a few chambers down from me.”

“What’s in the chambers in between?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

“So why didn’t they put me in there?”

Merlin laughed. “When I say ‘nothing’ I don’t mean ‘an empty room’ kind of nothing, I mean like a ‘bottomless pit’ kind of nothing.”

“Oh.” Arthur swallowed. It was extremely comforting to know that if he opened the wrong door and walked right in he’d be meeting an imminent death.

“Yeah. Anyway, here’s the loo. Think you can make your way back by yourself?”

“Yeah.” Arthur nodded. “Thanks.”

Merlin continued walking in the opposite direction and Arthur stopped him.

“Where are you going?”

Merlin turned and smirked. “Nowhere.”

“An ‘empty room’ nowhere or a ‘bottomless pit’ nowhere?”

His smirk lessened and turned into more of an amused smile. “More like an ‘everywhere’ nowhere.” He turned around and walked off with his hands in his pockets, leaving Arthur to wonder just what the hell he meant.

Merlin almost immediately regretted not returning to his room after leading Arthur to the toilet. It was _cold_ and he had on only shorts and shoes. He stood on the roof of the funeral parlour and stared up at the black October sky above. A breeze brushed the hair on his body and he shivered. He brought himself up on tiptoes and let himself fall forward. Just before his face could kiss the concrete he thrust his arms out and caught himself in a press-up stance, which he then proceeded to do until he had warmed up.

With warmth achieved, he stood back up, ran to the edge of the building and jumped off, rolling back into a standing position on the ground below. Specks of loose concrete dug into the exposed skin on his back as he rolled and he winced at the momentary pain but otherwise ignored it.

Merlin loved when it was so late that nobody roamed the streets and it belonged to him alone. After passing an all-night cafe he saw the time was just after four in the morning. He’d run for fifteen minutes, go back and eat a little something, maybe play a bit, then come back out for his real morning run at six. There was no way he could get back to sleep and he needed the distraction.

He counted to sixty a total of seven times in his head, then turned and started running back the way he’d come. He scaled the side of a building by the window ledges, jumped across to the roof of another, then ran up the wall of an adjoining building and pushed himself over the roof of that one. He restarted his count and made it back to the Castle by the time he reached sixty all of five times. The roofs were always faster.

Arthur was snoring when Merlin walked into his chamber. Unlike Merlin, he slept soundly. The scout stepped silently up to the blond’s sleeping figure and caressed his cheek on impulse. To Merlin’s surprise, Arthur leaned into the touch and let out a contented sigh.

Merlin’s heart beat a little faster and he dared to go further, bringing his hand up and stroking the soft fair hair. Arthur pouted as he slept and seemed to radiate childish innocence. Why would such a handsome young man lower himself to the sewers of Camelot when he could easily find another job? The Knights were a group of misfits, whereas Arthur could get along anywhere. The system _worked_ for people like him. What cause had he to rebel?

“Arthur,” he whispered. Arthur stirred in his sleep and Merlin stepped back. Right. Shirt, then breakfast.

He picked up a deep purple shirt, the cleanest he could find among the clothes that littered his floor, and pulled it over his head.

They didn’t have much in the way of breakfast, what with most of the Knights being nocturnal and sleeping till midday. Still, Merlin managed to find a decent looking apple.

“You’re up even earlier than usual.”

Merlin spun around and saw Percival. “Yeah,” Merlin replied. “Didn’t take my sleep.”

Percival opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of orange juice.

“Again?” Merlin nodded. “Did you call him?” It was understood that he meant Kilgharrah. Merlin nodded once more. “Did he have anything to say?”

“Just told me to ‘embrace my destiny,’ whatever that means.” Merlin shrugged and took a bite of his apple.

“I suppose we’ll find out sooner or later. His words always mean something.”

Percival chugged the rest of the orange juice and went back to his chamber, leaving Merlin to sit in silence.

“HEY ARTHUR!”

Arthur sat up with a jolt, nearly banging his head into Merlin’s chin.

“What the hell, Merlin!” Arthur yelled, heart pumping furiously from the fright.

Merlin didn’t respond. Instead he jumped onto one of his swinging platforms and grinned in a way that made Arthur’s stomach drop with apprehension.

“Good, you’re up,” he said, grinning.

Arthur rubbed his eyes. “I’m pretty sure all of Camelot is up thanks to you.”

“They are!” Merlin hopped to another platform and started swinging from it dangerously on its chain. “But that’s not the point. The point is that I’ve been assigned to take you out. Supposed to give me a ‘sense of responsibility’ or something.” He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Like I’m not responsible for hundreds of lives already.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Anyways, get up and let’s go.”

“Where are you taking me?” Arthur asked as he left the warmth of his blanket.

“Camelot.”

“Aren’t we already there? And I’ve grown up here my whole life, what more is there to see?”

“You’ll just have to wait and find out won’t you?”

“ _Mer_ lin.”

Merlin’s feet hit the floor with a loud clap and Arthur wondered that the skinny lad didn’t collapse or split his calves in two.

“Get a move on, princess.”

“Or what?” Arthur stood his ground. Merlin stood centimetres from him. Their noses were almost touching.

For a moment they just faced each other, eyes searching the other’s for some hint of backing down. Merlin looked downright furious and kind of scary, but Arthur held his gaze. Then Merlin cracked a smile and Arthur breathed easy.

“Or we’ll be late, of course.”

Through a confusing series of twists and turns, they finally ended up at a door. It looked just like any other door in the whole bloody labyrinth, but then Arthur supposed that was the point.

Merlin opened it and it was like he’d been taken to another world. It was busy and loud and Arthur had no idea that a whole other city existed below the city above. There were vendors and tents and it was the sewer, but then it wasn’t. The whole place was like some kind of underground hive, buzzing with life.

Arthur looked around with what he knew must appear to be childish amazement and wonder, but he couldn’t help it. Who knew that so many people lived under the very streets that normal, everyday citizens walked?

Merlin tugged on his wrist and Arthur snapped back to reality. “Come on, then.”

Arthur let Merlin keep hold of his wrist, mostly because he didn’t want to get lost in the crowd. The people were dirty and had keen, suspicious eyes that Arthur didn’t like. But then some of them, like Leon or Gwen, had a welcoming feel about them, like everyone they met was family.

They suddenly dipped behind a wall and Merlin opened another door, this one made of wood. The room they entered was lit by a small lantern, and Arthur was surprised that it was actual fire. But then, they were underground and electricity would be difficult, especially if they didn’t want their presence known.

Leon and Percival sat at a table with a young man in a large overcoat. It seemed five sizes too big for him and in any other circumstance he would have looked ridiculous, but these people were poor and had to make do with what they had.

“Arthur, Merlin. Good, you’re here.” Leon waved them over to the table and they sat down. It was a cramped room and a tight fit.

“Merlin, you remember Mordred. Arthur, this is our Prot informant. He helps us from time to time,” Leon introduced them.

Upon closer inspection, Arthur did recognise him as a member of his father’s force. The Protectors had suspected for months now that the Knights had a rat among them, but didn’t know who. Apparently it was this Mordred fellow.

“Nice to meet you.” Arthur stuck out his hand, and Mordred shook it quickly.

“I have to get back soon or they’ll discover my absence.”

“Of course.” Leon nodded. “Tell Merlin what you heard.” Merlin leaned in closer.

“There’s talk of more security around the city. More importantly, above the city,” Mordred said quietly.

In contrast, Merlin slammed his fist on the table and shouted. “No! They can’t do that! Those are _my_ rooftops, this is _my_ city! Who the fuck do they think they’re messing with?”

Percival coughed and folded his arms so his muscles stood out. “Merlin,” he warned.

Merlin lowered his voice to a whisper, but that made it even more eerie to Arthur.

“I swear I’ll kill every last one of them. I’ll slit their fucking throats and they’ll think twice before trying to claim my territory. I swear it.”

“That’s not all,” Mordred continued. Arthur wondered how anyone could sit by so nonchalantly when death threats were being made. “It’s Dawn.”

Merlin swore. Leon pinched the bridge of his nose. Percival’s glare seemed to intensify.

“I don’t understand. What does that mean?” Arthur asked. All eyes turned to him.

Finally, Leon patted him on the back. “The Dawn is said to be the end of the Knights.”

“What exactly is the Dawn?”

“Where’d you get this boy from?” Mordred asked suddenly.

“Who, Arthur?” Merlin swung an arm around Arthur’s neck like they were best mates. “He lost his job, was roughed up one too many times by the Prots, and wanted to join the Knights. He passed the trial and here he is.”

Mordred froze. “The Son’s name is Arthur.”

The ring on Arthur’s thumb seemed to be burning into his skin.

“Okay, I get the impression that I’m being accused of something,” Arthur said. “What’s all this about dawns, and nights and the sun?”

Leon opened his mouth to speak but Merlin shut him up with a wave of his hand. “I’ll fill him in.” He pulled Arthur in close, like they were sharing a secret, and he supposed in a way they were.

“You see, big bad Uther has an heir to his big bad dictator throne, and it’s not Morgana. It was rumoured to be one of the Protectors, because that would make sense right, the son following in his father’s footsteps? Only no one’s ever heard of a Prot named Arthur. He’s either still too young to join, or Uther is keeping him in hiding, giving him some sort of special training that’ll make him even worse than Uther himself. Anyways, it’s kind of a play on words: The Son rises, the Dawn comes, and the Knights end.”

Arthur was flattered in a way. There was a whole prophecy surrounding him and he was feared by everyone in this city-beneath-the-city. But nobody knew who he was.

“So you’re saying that Uther finally brought his son out of hiding,” Arthur stated. It was weird talking about his father and himself like this, and Arthur had never had to act before, but he felt he was doing well considering.

“Yes,” Mordred confirmed. “He could be anyone. He is known for his blond hair but that could easily be dyed. No one has ever seen him so he could blend in and never be noticed. “

“I just can’t believe Uther is going to start patrolling my rooftops,” Merlin muttered to himself angrily. “The nerve of some people.”

Leon ignored Merlin and spoke to Arthur. “Merlin left out an important part of the prophecy. The end of the Knights is not necessarily a bad thing.”

“Hey, I like things the way they are,” Merlin interrupted but Leon ignored him again.

“Merlin likes to assume the worst in people so he didn’t bother bringing this up.”

“What is it?”

“The prophecy says nothing about the Son being bad, only that he was raised to bring an end to the Knights. Some believe that the Son will see the wrong his father has done and work to put a stop to it. That he’ll lead the Knights against his father, take his place, and rule Camelot the way it was meant to be, with justice and equality. If that happened, there would be no need for Knights anymore,” Leon explained.

“And that’s a really big ‘if,’” Merlin added. “Considering this guy has spent his whole life being bred for the explicit purpose of continuing Uther’s reign of terror.”

“Either way, we’re going to find the Son and kill him,” Percival spoke up from the corner. The certainty with which he said it made Arthur shudder.

“Hear, hear!” Merlin cheered.

“Is that true?” Arthur looked to Leon.

Leon met Arthur’s eyes forlornly. “We can’t put the fate of the city on one man’s shoulders. The prophecy has too many ‘if’s and there are hundreds of thousands of people’s lives on the line. It’s better that we deal with it this way.”

Arthur didn’t need to ask what “this way” was. They planned to kill him, probably Uther and Morgana as well, and run the city themselves.

Arthur hadn’t asked any more questions, because honestly he felt like he’d already asked too many. But now he regretted it.

As if he wasn’t confused enough. If what these sewer-people—as Arthur had started calling them—said was true, he had a decision to make. He could either betray his father or continue with his original mission. And what was so bad about the Camelot they lived in now? What had his father done to deserve so much hatred?

A voice in the back of Arthur’s head reminded him of the “nutritionally enhanced” food and how he’d known nothing about it. _Had_ his father been breeding him in his image like Merlin said? Was Arthur never supposed to learn about any of this?

Before he decided anything, he had to get more information. If it wasn’t just the food situation, but more injustices as well…

Merlin guided him through the crowded passages, past makeshift homes, baked goods sellers, and jewellery stalls whose wares were no doubt stolen. They came to a hole-in-the-wall sort of place with three shady fellows huddled around the fire.

“Here.” Merlin turned and handed Arthur five gold coins. “Go buy some bread and wait for me there. I’ll be right over.”

Merlin looked around then started walking to the men around the fire. He looked over his shoulder and saw Arthur still watching him.

“Off with you,” he waved, and Arthur hurried off.

Merlin stuffed in hands in his pockets. “Evening,” he said, approaching the three of them.

“Merlin,” one greeted him. The other two simply nodded.

Merlin dug a coin purse out of his right pocket and handed it quickly to the man closest to him, who slipped it into his coat. The second man pulled out a small brown bag and threw it over the fire to Merlin, who caught it easily in one hand.

“You being followed?”

Merlin turned to look at the man he’d given his money to. “Huh?” He glanced over his shoulder. “You mean that bloke over there?”

Merlin saw Arthur across the market, peeking from behind a corner and clutching two loaves of bread to his chest. Merlin sighed and walked angrily over to where Arthur was spying.

“Thought I told you to wait by the bread, princess.” He grabbed Arthur roughly by the collar.

“Who are those men you’re talking to? Do they work for the Knights too?”

“Don’t worry about them. They’re friends of mine, alright?” Merlin threw a quick glance over his shoulder where the three men were watching with keen eyes. He waved a farewell to them and they nodded. “Let’s get started with your training.”

“Training?”

“Yeah, are you daft? Training.” Merlin held out his hand suddenly and opened it to reveal a single gold coin in his palm.

“That’s a coin.”

“Very observant of you. Where’d it come from?”

Arthur blinked. “Your pocket?”

“Wrong!” Merlin practically shrieked. Some people turned to stare at them, saw it was only Merlin, and went on their way.

“So where did it come from?” Arthur asked.

“ _Your_ pocket,” he said, grinning.

Arthur patted his trousers and sure enough they felt lighter. When he looked to Merlin again, the boy had four coins.

“How did you—”

“You took your eyes off me. When I shouted ‘wrong.’” Merlin slipped the coins back into Arthur’s pocket with deliberate slowness. “Really, you make it too easy.”

“Okay. So never take my eyes off the person I’m talking to in case they’re a sneaky bastard. That’s easy.”

“Wrong again, my friend. Look.” Merlin turned around and put his hands on his hips.

Apart from getting a nice view of Merlin’s backside, Arthur didn’t see the point of this.

“What am I looking at exactly?” he asked.

“My arse, obviously,” Merlin snickered.

“Stop being a knob and tell me straight.”

Merlin moved his hands to his back pockets, effectively cupping his plump cheeks. “These. You see these?” He looked over his shoulder at Arthur. “Zips. Someone wants to steal something from me, they’ve got to tug for it.”

“Alright. Zips, then. That it?”

Merlin sighed, exasperated. “ _No,_ that’s not it! Now we’re going to practise. Follow me.”

Arthur didn’t have much of a choice because Merlin pulled him by the wrist and took him in a seemingly random direction.

They entered the familiar white-washed corridors of the Castle through another entrance and Arthur was certain then that the place was in fact a labyrinth. Merlin navigated the hallways with ease until they were back near the main atrium. He turned and took the bread from Arthur, who was still holding it tightly to his chest.

“Listen, when we get back to the others, not a word about seeing those three guys, got it?”

Arthur nodded. They walked in silence for a while and Arthur felt his time for questions was running out as they neared the more crowded area.

“Who were they anyways?” he asked.

“Just friends,” Merlin said, not turning around.

“You pay your friends?”

“Some of them.”

“They must not be good friends then.”

“Good enough.”

More silence. Their footsteps echoed down the dim corridor.

“Merlin?”

“What, Arthur?”

Arthur hesitated but finally said, “You bought drugs from them, didn’t you?”

Merlin spun on his heels and pinned Arthur against the wall, letting the bread in his hands drop to the floor. He was surprisingly strong for someone so lanky.

“Alright, princess, since you’re new here, I’ll say it the nice way: What I do, what I buy, who I’m friends with—all that doesn’t concern you. Lance knows that, Percival knows that, and Mother knows that. Leon and Gaius can try all they want to stop me, but even they can’t do shit besides kick me out of the Castle and I’ll just come right back in anyways. So be a good little boy and turn a blind eye to all this, like the rest of them. Don’t pretend to care about pathetic old me, got it? I’m not worth the effort.”

He removed his hand from Arthur’s neck and Arthur’s feet met the floor again. He swayed from the dizziness, but straightened himself up and glared at Merlin hatefully. He caught Merlin by surprise when he forced him against the opposite wall and held his forearm across his neck.

“Stop calling me princess you fucking _freak_ ,” Arthur hissed into Merlin’s face. “Maybe you are pathetic, and maybe you’re not worth the effort, but I’m the one that has to sleep in the same room as you. I have a right to know if there’s a chance some nutjob druggie is going to slit my throat at night, don’t you think? Not everything is about you, _Mer_ lin.” He backed away from Merlin and stared at him, daring him to fight, offering up the challenge.

Merlin didn’t disappoint. He held Arthur against the wall again and they glared at each other, faces so close they were breathing mouthfuls of each other’s air.

Arthur’s head was reeling. A part of him couldn’t believe he’d just confronted the most dangerous Knight of them all alone in a corridor where nobody would miss his body. But another part of him loved the thrill and excitement. And now he was staring right into the eyes of the monster, eyes that were getting closer and closer...

And then they were kissing. It was forceful, and Merlin was clutching handfuls of his flesh so tightly it felt as if he might rip them away from the rest of him. Arthur gripped Merlin’s waist and let himself be consumed. He offered up his neck which Merlin nipped at hungrily. He didn’t know what he was doing. He should have been fighting Merlin, pushing him away, not pulling him closer. But instead he was letting Merlin have his wicked way with him because it felt like nothing he’d ever had before. It felt so _good_.

Arthur fought for control, but not to put a stop to things. He snatched Merlin’s wrists and pushed the boy roughly against the opposite wall a second time, wrapping his fingers tightly around his neck. Merlin let his arms hang limp at his sides as he gasped for breath.

Arthur smashed his lips into Merlin’s but didn’t loosen his grip. He banged Merlin’s head against the wall a couple times and Merlin let out a pathetic whimper, but his right leg came up and wrapped itself around Arthur’s waist, bringing their hips closer. He so clearly wanted it as much as Arthur did.

Arthur let go of Merlin’s neck in favour of cupping the pale face in his hands and he felt Merlin’s fingers start to work on his trousers. Merlin pushed their trousers down to their ankles and soon Arthur was rutting his freed erection into Merlin shamelessly, moaning at the new type of friction. Merlin jerked both of their leaking cocks in his hand while Arthur kissed every expanse of skin available above Merlin’s shirt.

Then Arthur’s tongue found a sensitive spot just behind Merlin’s ear and the scout came with a cry into his hand, but didn’t stop stroking the both of them. He quickened his pace and Arthur thrust forward into Merlin a final time before coming himself.

“Sweet mother of fuck, Arthur,” Merlin whispered, seemingly to himself, as they separated.

They gasped for breath while they examined themselves. Arthur had bruises all down the left side of his body and felt teeth marks when he touched his neck. Merlin’s throat was still sporting the impression made from Arthur’s fingers and he had a couple scratches on his arms.

The last few minutes caught up with Arthur’s brain. “What the fuck just happened?” He meant the question rhetorically but Merlin answered.

“We just did it, mate. And quite roughly I might add.”

Arthur looked up and saw Merlin grinning. “No I mean...is that usually how things go?”

Merlin’s grin became a smirk. “First time with a bloke?”

“First time with anyone.”

“Oh.” Merlin seemed surprised.

Arthur’s stomach plummeted as he realised the cameras in his eyes had caught the whole thing. Only Morgana had access to view whatever footage he got, and he was certain she’d be good about it and edit it out, but it was still mortifying to know his sister had just seen him do _that._

Fretting over it wouldn’t change anything though. Arthur sighed and pulled his pants up from his ankles and began wiping himself with them. Merlin did the same, then turned them inside out and slipped them back on. He picked up the bread and they looked the area over before continuing on.

They didn’t say anything else nearly the rest of the way there, and Arthur was content to follow Merlin and let his thoughts wander and try to make sense of things. Arthur didn’t think this would change anything. Merlin would probably choose to go on as if nothing had happened, and Arthur was perfectly fine to do just that. But as they neared the lobby, Merlin stopped and turned to face Arthur.

Arthur’s brow furrowed at the sudden halt right near the end. Then Merlin leaned forward and kissed him softly, unlike the rough, dirty kisses from before, and Arthur realised that things _had_ changed.

When Merlin pulled away, he opened his eyes and looked intently at Arthur. Then Arthur saw for himself what Percival had meant the day before. Merlin suddenly had a look that was unsettling, disturbing even. It was as though Arthur could see insanity taking hold in Merlin’s mind before his very eyes.

“I really like this next part of training,” the scout said with a toothy grin.

Then suddenly it was as if the moment in the corridor had never happened, as if Merlin had changed his mind in the span of a few minutes and wanted to forget kissing Arthur a second time. Arthur didn’t know what to make of it, but wouldn’t let himself dwell on it too much. He really, _really_ should have been focusing on his mission.

Merlin became his usual cocky self and thrust the bread back into Arthur’s arms when they had a view of Elyan working on something at the table in the main atrium. He put a finger to his lips to indicate silence.

Arthur watched as Merlin approached the unsuspecting Elyan from behind, crouched in a low stance. The man was apparently tinkering with something and had his whole attention on it.

“HIYA ELYAN!” Merlin shouted and the mechanic jumped.

“Holy—! Merlin!” Elyan glared at the pale, lanky lad and shoved him away with a strong arm. “I’m _working._ Something you obviously have no concept of.”

“Bollocks. I’m working now.”

“Are you, then?” Elyan asked disinterestedly, looking back to his mechanical device.

“Yeah. Just demonstrating to Arthur the art of sneaking.”

Elyan glanced behind him and saw Arthur holding the bread. “Excellent job, Merlin. Didn’t even know he was here. Now put the bread away and sod off, I’ve got real work to do.”

Merlin huffed and slapped the top of Elyan’s head with a loud smack then disappeared into the rafters somewhere before the man could retaliate.

“Goddammit, Merlin!”

The only reply was high-pitched laughter from above. Arthur scanned the area above him hopelessly.

“Kitchen’s that way.” Elyan pointed to a door Arthur had only seen but never used before. “Gwen’s in there, she’ll take it.”

Arthur looked to the ceiling once more before realising that Merlin really had just abandoned him and went into the kitchen. Gwen was stirring a large pot of broth on a stove. She looked up when the door shut behind Arthur.

“Oh, you’re back. Thank you,” she said, taking the bread.

“Well, _I’m_ here. I don’t know where Merlin disappeared off to.”

Gwen chuckled as she put the loaves away then returned to the pot. “Probably went outside. He gets restless after being underground for so long. He’s been better about it though, since we let him have the phone room.” She glanced at him. “Have you seen it yet?”

Arthur thought back to the chamber with painted walls and floors and the telephone box in the centre.

“Briefly, when I was looking for the loo last night. I got lost and ran into Merlin coming out of there.”

Gwen nodded. “Lance built the platforms and installed the paint pipes. The telephone has been there since before we lived here. Kind of a mystery to us all.”

That was interesting. Arthur would have to investigate the room in depth later, but for now his own curiosity was piqued.

“Paint pipes?” he repeated.

“Yes. There’s an area in the back with some handles that control the flow. All Merlin has to do is turn one, step in the paint that comes out, and start running.” She smiled fondly. “He quite likes it. He’s creative like that. The whole painting-with-feet thing was his idea. And you see how everything here is a stark white or grey. He needed the colour. It drove him nearly mad.”

She stopped suddenly, cut off by her own words. Merlin and madness was a delicate topic with her.

Arthur, though it was against everything he’d been trained for, was beginning to like Gwen. She really was like a mother to the group, being the only female, and Arthur had never had a mother in his own life. Morgana wasn’t a great example of feminine influence either. So Arthur felt for the woman. He swallowed and spoke as gently as he knew how.

“Merlin is certainly...special.” He tried not to bring up the image of Merlin with lust-blown eyes and red, swollen lips only a few minutes earlier. “I hope he’ll show me the place properly sometime. He seems like a very sad person, and I’d like to see what makes him truly smile.”

It was partly true, Arthur realised to his own horror, but most of it was feigned sympathy to get Gwen to tell him more.

“I think you’ll be good for him,” Gwen said. “He seems to like you.” Her eyes darted to Arthur’s neck and Arthur promptly brought his hand up to cover the bite marks. Gwen just chuckled.

 “Maybe,” Arthur said thickly. “I’m going to go wait for him in our room,” he said, anxious to get out of the conversation and his soiled pants. “If you need anything.”

Gwen waved and he left the kitchen. He walked past Elyan, who was still tinkering, to his shared room. Merlin was in there relaxing with his headphones on and his eyes closed.

Arthur looked down at his ring. “Sorry about that Morgana,” he whispered and twisted it.

He realised then that he didn’t have a change of clothes, having arrived with only the things he wore. He went over to the dresser on his side of the room anyway and opened the top drawer.

Arthur gasped. It was divided into two sections, the left stocked with pants and the right with socks. He closed it and moved down to the second drawer: shirts. Third: trousers.

“Huh,” he marvelled.

He pulled out a new outfit—the shirt he selected had a convenient collar—and stripped, then held the clothing up to his body. They seemed to be a decent size, even for his muscular build. Perhaps they were some of Leon’s old clothes.

Arthur had the shirt on and was just about to put his feet into the legs of the trousers when he felt a hot breath on the back of his neck. He froze then turned slowly. As expected, Merlin was behind him, staring like he wanted to lick him all over.

Maybe he did.

“I thought you were sleeping,” Arthur stammered.

Merlin remained silent.

Arthur could feel Merlin’s gaze on him, taking in his half nakedness. He could see the lust in the scout’s eyes. They hadn’t had a chance to fully appreciate each other’s bodies in their hasty hallway tumble.

Arthur tried not to notice the bulge in Merlin’s trousers and stepped back. He was _not_ going to do this again. It would hinder his mission. He wouldn’t do it, no matter how badly he wanted to.

Merlin didn’t press him, and Arthur was almost sorry he didn’t. Part of him had expected Merlin to push forward and bring their bodies together again.

Arthur continued to dress, zipping up the trousers with difficulty due to his erection. Merlin watched, sucking his bottom lip as he no doubt held himself back. When Arthur was fully dressed, they simply stood staring at each other for a few moments.

Finally, Merlin’s face broke out into that broad smile of his that made him look mental. “Now that’s how you sneak up on someone,” he said triumphantly.

Arthur laughed nervously. “Yeah, heh, you’re pretty skilled at that.”

“The best.” Merlin pounded his chest once with a fist, then spun around and went to his swinging bar.

“You’ll want to get some more sleep. We’re going out again tonight,” he explained, hanging upside down.

“Where are we going?”

“Upstairs. Some people to meet, Leon says. It being Dawn and all.”

Arthur sat on his bed and cracked his knuckles with apparent boredom, making sure to twist his ring.

“Will it be dangerous?” he inquired.

Merlin snorted. “With the increased patrols? Definitely. Why? You scared?”

“Not at all.”

“You ever get in a fight before?” Merlin asked sceptically.

“It might have escaped your notice _Mer_ lin, but I’m bigger and much stronger than a twig like you.” Arthur folded his arms across his broad chest.

But Merlin just laughed and hopped down from his swing. “Ha! Alright then, fight me.”

“Now?”

Not nearly enough time had passed since the incident for Arthur’s erection to go down. And it was not fun fighting with a hard-on.

Merlin must have been thinking the same thing. “Before dinner. We’ll see who the better man is.” He turned to leave. “Now get some rest. Seriously.”

“Where are you going?”

“My room.”

“You mean the place with all the colours?”

Merlin’s lips twitched in a slight smile. “Yeah.”

“Can I see it?”

“Someday. Not today. Go to sleep.” Then Merlin hit the button to open the door and was gone.

Arthur waited a few minutes. He didn’t have to do what Merlin said, and he had some options. He could find Gaius and see what he was about, he could go talk to the other Knights, or—and this is what he really wanted to do—he could follow Merlin.

What would his father have him do? Arthur wasn’t assigned to get information on Merlin, he was meant to get intel on what the Knights were planning. No doubt there would be some of that happening tonight, but for now he had to act. Going to Gaius seemed the best course of action.

Merlin wasn’t in the mood for running today, which was rare. Instead he just wanted to lie about, stoned out of his mind, and push back the wall of intruding thoughts. Having to babysit the new bloke was a distraction, but a tiring one.

When he got to the phone room he went straight to the tallest platform and sat down, then pulled the brown bag out of his front pocket.

Inside was a smaller clear container that was filled with the glorious herb Merlin had come to love over the past seven years. He opened it and the sweet smell wafted up into his nose. He inhaled deeply a few minutes, just enjoying the scent and letting it fill him. He closed his eyes and it was as if this aroma was his whole world.

After quite enough of that, he reached down and pulled his bowl out of his deepest pocket. He put the ground buds in until it was packed tightly, then placed wet lips around the mouthpiece, sparked the flame with a bit of magic, and inhaled deeply.

The longer he took the smoke into his mouth the more light-headed he became. It was as if his head was a fishbowl and he could just see it clouding up with smoke. When he exhaled through pursed lips and saw the white cloud, he knew he’d had a good hit. The weed was still burning and he brought the mouthpiece to his lips so he could take another hit while it was still aflame.

Merlin let his head fall back against the wall. He could already feel everything bad slipping away to the edges of his consciousness, where he wouldn’t be troubled by it. After another four deep hits, he was flying and truly gone.

“When the mens are in their shops, they look around and fear me,” he sang with a drawl. “When I lift they try to stop but the Prots they can’t get near me. When all is bad and sad and low and there’s no way to get by, I say ‘hullo Gwaine!’ and slip him change, and get all fucking high.”

Merlin giggled with glee at his rhyme and fell over onto his

side. He felt himself

 fall over and over

again, as if time had

slowed down the movement, though he could feel the solid wood beneath him firmly. He was so detached from his body. So detached from

everything

“What’s good then, Merlin old chap?” he said in the most posh voice he could muster. “How’ve ye been these past few days?

“Why, I’ve been excellent, Mr Emrys, thankye for asking. Just before this new bloke turned up I had quite the run-in with these two Prots that thought it’d be a bit of fun to beat this one girl, about ten she was, so I stepped right up behind them and pulled their feet from under ‘em, I did. Caught them by surprise, I did, I did!

“HaHAhaHAhaHA! Excellent, my dear boy, excellent! What did you do then? Tell me you clawed their beady little eyes out.

“I did, I did! Just one of them. And just one eye, before the other Protty bastard pulled me offa him. Took care of _him_ though. Twisted his arm and he howled in pain. It was GLORious, simply magNIFicent!”

Merlin grew tired of the voice game and sighed, then rolled over onto his back. Again, part of him seemed to continue rolling though he lay still. He closed his eyes and let himself float.

It was nice, being numb. He could think about anything and it wouldn’t hurt, not as much as it would have if he’d been sober.

Like the ten year old girl the Prots had been beating, or the time he saw a man his age try to climb an electric fence and die, or the July Riot, or even his own lonely childhood before he’d joined the Knights at nearly sixteen.

Yeah. Thoughts like that. Stupid, conniving little thoughts snaking their way into his brain through the cracks in the wall he’d built to hold them out. They didn’t stand a chance against the smoke in his fishbowl of a mind. Let them wander around and get lost in the mist.

Merlin began humming the song that he always played on his headphones, marvelling at how the sound coming from his throat vibrated all through his skull. The human body was really a wonder. Especially his.

Ever since he was little he’d been able to do things. With a snap of his finger he could trip someone up, a wave of his hand would lift an object across the room, a simple thought could start a fire. And, as he’d discovered seven years ago, he could do all the drugs he wanted, and his body could magically clean it out of his system.

That wasn’t to say he couldn’t get addicted or heal himself of other wounds. When he’d gotten shot once in the shoulder, he still had to get stitches and it took weeks to recover. But it’s not like he would die from withdrawal and it took a considerable amount to get him hooked. His magic could always buy him a little more time before he was able to get high again.

Merlin sat up quickly—though it felt as though it took forever—and picked up his bowl. There was still some green visible on a couple of buds. After inhaling that, he would go back to his chambers, take his own advice and get some rest. He’d hardly slept at all in the past twenty-four hours.

Gaius looked up when the door to his secluded chamber slid open.

“Arthur,” he said. “I was wondering when I might see you again. Come in.”

Arthur walked in, scanning the room for both himself and Morgana back at the tower. Books lined the walls and there were even piles of them on the floor and on the desk the old man was sitting at. A high cot came out of the wall on the right and blankets were neatly folded over it.

“You have books,” Arthur stated. “Real books.”

Gaius smiled proudly and nodded. “I do. Have you ever seen one?”

Arthur shook his head. “Can I?” He knelt down beside the nearest pile of books when Gaius gave his assent.

There were five in this short stack. Arthur looked at the titles and covers briefly, trying to figure what they were about based on the design on the front. _Middlesex, Flatland, A Clockwork Orange, The Stranger,_ and _House of Leaves._ He’d never heard of any of these before.

“Is this where the old saying comes from?” Arthur asked. “‘Don’t judge a book by its cover?’ It’s from back when books actually had covers, and weren’t electronic.”

“Indeed.”

Arthur opened the top one, _The Stranger_. He furrowed his brow.

“Maman is the mother right?” He asked Gaius, who was watching him with an amused expression.

“That’s right.”

“So why can’t he—or she—remember which day she died?”

“That’s just how the main character is,” Gaius replied.

“That’s weird.”

“Some books are weird. Merlin enjoys weird books. That’s his collection.”

Arthur regarded the stack with a new eye. Merlin enjoyed weird books? Even more importantly, Merlin enjoyed _reading_? That certainly wasn’t in his file.

Arthur paged through the book in his hand and stopped when he thought he smelled something. He brought his nose to the page and inhaled deeply.

“It smells nice,” he said in awe.

Gaius laughed. “That’s a good sign. Not everyone can appreciate the smell of a good book.”

Arthur mouth tilted in not exactly a frown as he sniffed the page again.

“Would you like to read one?” Gaius asked.

Arthur’s heart suddenly skipped before he even realised that yes, he did very much want to read one. “Yes, please.”

Gaius brought a wrinkled finger to his chin. “Hmm. Let me think.” He stood and walked around, considering. Finally, he said, “Aha!” and plucked a book from one of the built-in wall shelves.

Arthur looked at the cover. _The Dice Man._

“What’s this about?”

“It’s about a man that decides one day to live his life according to a pair of dice. He assigns a possible course of action to a number and whatever he rolls is the action he’ll take.”

“But there’s an infinite amount of possible choices.”

“You’ll see when you read it.”

Arthur looked sceptically at the cover again as he took the book. “Alright.”

“But you didn’t come here for a book, did you?” Gaius asked knowingly.

Arthur swallowed. “No. I guess I came for information. What exactly do you all do here? And what will I be doing? I don’t know much about the Knights, just what I’ve heard from hushed conversations in the alleys, but I know you all are against the Protectors.”

Gaius sat back down at his desk and leaned back in his chair thoughtfully. “Why exactly did you join, Arthur?”

Arthur recalled every detail he’d been told to say should he be asked this. “I lost my job about a month ago and was evicted soon after. I lived in an alley a few weeks and got tormented by the same people that had sworn to protect me before I’d fallen on hard times. I heard different people say different things about the Knights: complain about the them and how they were making everyone’s life harder, some wanting to join but knowing they’d never pass the trial...After one Prot nearly choked me to death I decided I wanted to do something to get back at them.”

“So you’re here for revenge?”

“I’m here for justice. I was an upstanding citizen just a short while ago. Why I should stop being one just because I couldn’t pay my bills is unfair. What happened to me shouldn’t happen to anyone.”

Arthur had practised this speech in his head a hundred times. He’d been told just as many times that things of that sort never happened, that nobody _really_ was treated differently if they suddenly found themselves unable to get by. Morgana told him of the shelters and temporary homes that existed for just such people.

“I see. Well, Arthur, to be honest, it’s Leon you’ll want to speak to. We’ve a two-part plan and he’s in charge of part one. My part doesn’t come in until Uther is no longer in control.”

“Then that’s the real goal? To take down Uther?” Arthur made his eyes go wide with feigned excitement.

“Yes. Once that’s done, we’ll lay the foundation for a better government. Or at least modify this one. That’s my part: the planning and the taking over. It’s my job to ensure that there is a smooth exchange of power from Protectors to Knights, and that the new government we create is satisfactory for all.”

“And my part in all this?”

“As I said, you’ll be wanting to speak with Leon. I’m not sure what he’s going to have you do. But we all bring a special skill to the team. Perhaps he means to find yours and use it to our advantage.”

“What’s Gwen’s?” Arthur slapped his hand over his mouth but couldn’t take the words back. He hadn’t meant to sound sexist.

Gaius laughed though. “She holds this place together, believe me. She does more than cook and clean, I assure you. I’m able to heal physical injury, but there’s nothing like a woman’s care to soothe emotional pain. Gwen is understanding and patient. She’s a bit like our resident psychologist,” he added with a strange smile.

“Yeah, she is very...concerned about people. Especially Merlin.” Why did things always come back to Merlin? Arthur could never seem to have a single conversation in this place that didn’t somehow bring up the odd boy.

“Ah, yes. Merlin. He is certainly special.”

The way Gaius said it sounded different from the way the others said it. Almost like he knew something they didn’t.

“How do you mean? To me he just seems weird.”

The old man’s eyes became guarded and his smile faltered. “He’s different is what I mean to say. Unique.” He folded his arms over his desk. “Now, will that be all?”

Arthur nodded and turned to leave. He pressed the button to open the door and was about to step out when Gaius called his name. He turned.

“I trust you’ll take good care of that book.”

“Of course, sir,” Arthur replied. He went back to his room.

It was taking Merlin forever to get to his room. Though he was walking with the longest stride possible, it still felt as though he were only stepping forward centimetre by centimetre. His eyes saw clearly that he was stretching his legs out in front of him to ridiculous lengths, but his mind refused to believe he was making any progress towards his goal. It was honestly a surprise when he finally reached his chamber door.

What was even more surprising was the fact that Arthur was still awake. Merlin hadn’t counted on that. And what was more, he was reading a book. A _book_.

“Gaius.”

Arthur looked up from where he had his head buried deep in the novel. “That’s right, Merlin,” he said as if Merlin were eight years old. “I went to see Gaius.”

“Shuddup. ‘M not stupid.”

“Just high. Again.”

Merlin stuck his tongue out and walked into the room. Arthur immediately burst out laughing.

“What the hell have you done to your shoes?” he asked.

Merlin frowned and looked down. “My feet got sweaty. I didn’t feel like...wha’s the word for it? In my hands. Bringing them back in my hands. D’you know?”

“You didn’t feel like carrying them?” Arthur clarified, laughing again.

“Tha’s right! Caring for ‘em. So I tied the laces round my feet. Jus’ drag ‘em ‘long behind me.”

He tried to sit on the edge of his bed but misjudged the distance and ended up falling on his arse. Arthur couldn’t help but laugh and Merlin got upset.

“Quit laughing at me!” Arthur kept laughing. The sound bounced around the inside of his skull and a flare of anger brought Merlin to his feet. He stumbled forward, swaying as he did so. “I said stop with the laughing!”

“I can’t. You’re too funny.”

Merlin stood, huffing furiously. It wasn’t just Arthur, or his laugh that teleported Merlin to a darker time. It was his smile. His teeth were blindingly bright, and the way his lips stretched to reveal them was gorgeous. The crinkles at his eyes and around his mouth made him beautiful. Merlin loved that smile but he hated being laughed at. He couldn’t _stand_ being laughed at. It reminded him too much of _before_. He wanted Arthur to smile but didn’t want Arthur to laugh at him and he didn’t know what to do so he started crying.

That shut Arthur up. Arthur looked on with wide-eyed shock, but stayed frozen to his spot on the bed, and Merlin just stood there crying and staring at Arthur through his tears. Arthur not smiling made him feel not good and Arthur laughing at him made him feel not good. If only he could give Arthur another reason to smile.

He wiped his eyes furiously and fell back on his arse with a purposeful thud. Arthur just watched him with wide eyes. Merlin kicked his leg up and his shoe hit him on the head when it dangled from his ankle but Arthur still said nothing. Merlin started slapping the floor repeatedly until his palms were red but Arthur’s lips didn’t even twitch.

“Smile!” he yelled. Arthur’s brow furrowed in confusion. Merlin just wanted the brightness back in Arthur’s face. Arthur had no reason to look that way. Arthur wasn’t troubled by bad memories and voices. Arthur was attractive and charismatic and brilliant.

Merlin tried a new tactic. He got on his knees and went to the edge of Arthur’s bed, pleading with his eyes. “Please, Arthur,” he begged. “Please smile for me. Please please please. I’ll do anything.”

Arthur scooted away until his back was against the wall. He looked afraid.

“Arthur!” Merlin fought back tears. He didn’t want to scare him. Everybody was frightened of him, even Mother. Why couldn’t Arthur just joke with him like he had before, as if Merlin was normal?

Merlin began to crawl onto Arthur’s bed. “Merlin, what are you—”

“I’ll suck your cock. Would you like that? Would that make you smile?”

Merlin took Arthur’s hesitation to mean yes.

“Merlin!” Arthur tried to move sideways, no longer able to move backwards, to get further away from him, but Merlin followed the movement.

“Please, Arthur. Just once, at least. Just smile, like before!”

“What the hell is wrong with you? A minute ago you were begging me to stop. What’s gotten into you?”

Merlin sank back onto his calves, giving up. “I don’t know!” he cried, throwing up his arms. “I don’t fucking know!”

Gwen came in then, much to Arthur’s relief. She ran immediately to Merlin, pulled him gently away and sat him down on his own bed where she could hold him tight in her arms. It was strange to see Merlin, who was so much taller than her, be cradled like a small child.

“Shh, Merlin, it’s okay. It’s alright,” she said softly, stroking his mop of black hair.

“No, it’s not. I’m fucked, Mother, I’m fucked.”

“No you’re not, sweetheart. You’re fine. You’re just a bit upset.”

She held him, rocked him back and forth awhile, until he finally calmed down.

“Where’s your sleep?” she asked him.

Merlin pointed to his dresser and fell into the warm spot she left when she got up.

“I’ll be back with some water, alright Merlin?” Gwen said at the door. “I’ll be _right_ back.”

“Mmhmm,” Merlin groaned and closed his eyes.

Arthur watched Merlin’s body rise and fall with his breathing until Gwen came back in with a glass of water. She went to Merlin’s dresser and got a small white pill from a clear plastic bag.

“Here you go, love, there,” she said as Merlin put the pill in his mouth and drank it down.

Gwen took the glass from him and set it on the floor, and Merlin returned his head to her shoulder.

“Thank you, Mother,” he mumbled.

“Just rest now, Merlin,” she said, stroking his hair again.

It wasn’t long before Merlin was deep asleep and Gwen lay him down on the bed. She untied the laces from around his ankles and pulled the thin blanket up over him, tucking him in like a true mother would. Then she stood and went to sit by Arthur, who’d been watching curiously the whole time.

She sighed before she spoke. “I heard the shouting and came as quick as I could. Wanna tell me what happened?”

Arthur swallowed. “I’m honestly not sure. He came in here, high as a kite, then fell over and when I laughed he got all upset. Told me to quit. Then when I did, he kept telling me to smile. Just begging me to smile. I don’t understand it.”

“Did he say why?”

“No.”

“Well. Merlin’s mind is a mystery even when he’s not doped up. This is just another unsolved one, I guess.”

“I guess.”

“Dinner will be in a few hours,” she said, getting up. “I’ll see you then.”

When she left Arthur felt a tugging at his heart. He’d never had a mother, or anyone to take care of him with such affection. He had no idea what he’d been missing before, but if what Gwen had done was what all mothers did, he wanted that more than he had wanted anything before.

Arthur shook his head, trying to get rid of such thoughts. He was here on a mission. Gwen was one of the Knights. He couldn’t start developing feelings for any of these traitors.

As soon as Merlin started muttering in his sleep again, Arthur twisted his ring, cutting the feed back to the tower. He was only reading anyways.

Arthur had never gotten lost in a book before. But then, he’d never read for entertainment before either. He’d only ever had to read manuals and tomes of protocols during his training to be a Protector, and those had all been electronic. It was a completely different experience physically holding a book and turning the pages.

So when Gwen came in again to wake up Merlin for dinner, Arthur was surprised by how much time had passed. He twisted his ring while she bent over to shake him and sat up to put his shoes on.

“Same thing tonight?” Arthur asked conversationally.

“Yes. But there will be bread too.” She smiled and Arthur felt something odd. Something like warmth, but he couldn’t exactly name it.

Merlin awoke slowly, unlike the night before when he’d jerked awake with a scream. He opened his eyes and groaned.

“Lemme sleep.”

“There’s dinner to be had and work to be done, Merlin,” Gwen replied, pulling the blanket off the scout.

“Nooooo,” he complained. “Doooooon’t.”

“Come on, Merlin. Up up up.”

“Ugh.” Merlin managed to get himself upright and rubbed his eyes with his fists. “What time is it?”

Gwen consulted her watch. “It’s just past seven. You have to be somewhere by eight, so you’d better hurry up.” She walked back to the door, turning back before leaving. “Arthur, make sure he doesn’t get back into bed.”

Arthur smirked at the glaring Merlin and easily dodged the shoe Merlin threw at him.

“Well, I hope you got some sleep as well because it’s going to be a long night,” Merlin said, voice still hoarse. He seemed back to his normal, cocky self.

“How so?”

“Things to see, people to do.” Merlin said airily, with a wave of his hand as he stood. “Wait. Reverse that. Or don’t. Whatever.”

He walked over to Arthur’s side of the room and Arthur was about to ask what the hell he was doing when Merlin leaned over and reached behind him. Arthur froze and his heart started pounding from the proximity.

Oh, that’s right. His shoe.

Merlin plucked it off the bed and returned to his side to put them on. When that was done he and Arthur walked to the door and left.

It was a relatively normal walk to the main atrium until Merlin decided he was too hot and took his shirt off. It didn’t help that Arthur was walking behind him.

Merlin really was hot. Temperature-wise of course. There was sweat dripping down his back, which Arthur noticed was actually quite nicely muscled. The lack of sleeves allowed him a better view of his triceps as well. His gaze followed the curve of Merlin’s spine to his waist. The top of his pants were visible just above his trousers, and Arthur recognised them as the same from before. Which meant that Merlin was still walking around in his come-stained pants from that morning.

The fact should not have turned Arthur on.

“It’s freezing outside, Merlin,” Gwen remarked when they entered and sat at the table.

“But it’s hot in here. I’ll put something on before we leave, promise,” Merlin replied, taking a stew-filled bowl from the centre. “Plus, you know I always sweat when I take my sleep.”

Arthur grabbed his own bowl and a chunk of bread. The rest of the Knights were already eating. Even Gaius had come out of his chambers to dine with them tonight.

They ate in silence for a while, with the occasional rude burp from Merlin, until the scout put down his spoon and slurped the rest of the broth into his mouth.

“Elyan going with us?” he asked Leon.

“I don’t know,” the leader replied. “Do you think you should go, El?”

Elyan pondered a moment. “I don’t think it will be necessary. You should all be fine with just the headsets and I’ll let you know if any Prots get close.”

Merlin snorted and leaned back in his chair so that the two legs were off the floor. “That’s _my_ job.”

“Fine. Then I’ll tell you if there’s any talk on the Prot radio. Though this shouldn’t be too risky of a meeting, if what Leon’s told me is true.”

Leon nodded. “Crowded pub, limited surveillance, completely harmless. The Prots could hardly take us in for going out for drinks.”

“But they could arrest you for all the other things you’ve done. Merlin especially,” Lance interjected.

Merlin grinned smugly and put his hands behind his head. “What can I say, I’m a man of many talents.”

“Right. Name one thing other than running and being fucking insane.”

Gwen slapped his arm—a seemingly common thing in their relationship—and Gaius gave Merlin a look. Arthur managed to catch it, flicking his gaze between the old man and the eccentric scout. Merlin seemed to tilt his chin forward just a bit.

“That’s easy,” Merlin said, putting the front two chair legs back on the floor. “I give great head.”

Arthur almost choked on his stew and everyone at the table—except, of course, Gaius—laughed.

“What?” Merlin raised his palms in a display of innocence. “It’s true. Just ask Leon.”

All eyes turned to Leon, who had turned deep red.

“Merlin, I was sleeping. That was practically rape,” the large man defended himself.

“Still made you come, though. Pretty quickly if I remember correctly.” Merlin was positively beaming with smugness now.

Lance came to Leon’s rescue. “I meant a useful talent, Merlin. Unless you plan on taking Uther down with the blowjob of a lifetime, I don’t think that’s very helpful.”

Elyan, Lance, Percival, and Leon laughed but Gaius and Gwen frowned. Merlin’s face looked about how Arthur felt at hearing “Uther” and “blowjob” in the same sentence.

“That’s just disgusting, even for me,” Merlin remarked.

“Alright, we’ve taken long enough,” Leon said. “We’ve got to go or we’ll be late. Elyan.”

Elyan skidded three headsets across the table to Leon, Merlin, and Arthur.

“Just us three?” Arthur asked as he adjusted the device over his ear.

There was an awkward exchange of glances and Merlin leaned in to whisper in Arthur’s ear.

“Lance’s got a club foot.”

Arthur blushed, embarrassed. That must have been why his file mentioned him rarely leaving. Arthur’s eyes went immediately to the man.

“I-I’m sorry,” he stuttered. “I had no idea.”

Lance just shrugged. “It’s alright. You’ve only seen me sitting anyways.”

“Come on, guys. We really ought to head out,” Leon reminded them.

Merlin tugged Arthur by the arm when he didn’t move fast enough and they went down the corridor on the opposite side of the lobby, away from Merlin and Arthur’s room.

Arthur’s confusion must have shown on his face because Merlin looked over and said, “Never _ever_ use the front door.”

Leon slowed his pace until they were all walking side by side, Merlin in the middle. The leader pulled out a slim, silver electronic pad and pressed a button to bring up a holographic map of the city.

“This is where we’re going.” He pointed to the yellow marker among the three dimensional buildings.

Merlin studied the map for a few seconds. “Got it,” he said and ran ahead. Pretty soon he turned left and it was just Arthur and Leon in the hallway.

“What will I be doing?”

Leon put away his device. “You’ll be around in case the man we’re meeting tries to pull anything.”

“Like a bodyguard? I thought that was Percival’s job.”

“The trouble with Perce is, you can’t bring him everywhere. If he came along, it would be too obvious something was going on. Like Merlin, he’s immediately associated with us. You’re big and look like you can handle it, but not so muscular that you draw attention.”

Arthur bit back the proud smile threatening to form. He’d _told_ Merlin he could fight.

“But hopefully we won’t have any problems,” Leon finished.

The two of them turned left where Merlin had turned and Arthur nodded. “Okay.”

“Have you ever taken the Tube?”

“The what?”

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“What’s the Tube?”

“It’s an underground train system. Kind of outdated nowadays, but it still runs.”

“An underground train? People still use trains?” Arthur had only seen pictures of trains in old books; big, metal boxcars that puffed steam out of the top. And they actually touched the ground.

“Just those of us that live underground. Not many people upstairs know about it. But you’ll see.”

When Merlin reached the door that led outside, he pulled his shirt out of his trousers and put it on. It was certainly chilly outside. October was welcoming autumn with open arms.

He opened the door and stepped into the dark alley. The flickering flames of the fires people huddled around made shadows dance almost maliciously across the gaunt faces of the alley dwellers. Merlin looked around for a familiar box and pushed past the shivering figures when he found it.

“Hello hello,” he sing-songed.

A man Merlin’s age poked his head out, brown hair ruffled from sleep. He had a wide, friendly face spattered with freckles and was one of Merlin’s first city acquaintances. “Merlin. What brings you to this part of the city?”

“Knight business. You have any of what I got last time?” he asked, getting right to the point.

“Maybe.”

Merlin checked each of his pockets until he found his coin purse. He counted twenty and offered it to his friend, but the brown mop of hair shook. “More.”

Merlin huffed. “How much more?”

“Thirty.”

“Fifty?! Are you fucking with me, Will? How long have we been friends, mate?”

Will shushed him. “Not so loud, huh? This is actually a safe living arrangement for once.”

“I’m not paying fifty gold.”

“Then you’re not getting any. Sorry, mate, times are hard.”

“Look, just—Ugh. I’ll be back later tonight.”

“If you say so. I’ll still be here.”

Merlin made his way further back into the alley neighbourhood until he got to a pipe he could climb up. He got up to the roof easily and tried to remember the marker on the map Leon had shown him. His memory was still a little fuzzy from being so high earlier but he thought he knew the place.

He broke into a sprint and leaped from rooftop to rooftop, rolling when the landing would have been rough on his ankles. He sometimes went out of his way to wallrun or triangle jump, but he knew this was no time for playing. This was a time for speed.

Merlin vaulted over low obstacles, skidded under air vents, and climbed up whatever walls got in his way, getting farther and farther away from street level. He loved feeling his heart pumping in his chest, got a thrill from the excitement of using the top of the city as his personal playground. It was brilliant. It was really fucking brilliant and Merlin felt he could run forever if his body would let him.

Merlin was just nearing the appointed location when he saw the first glimpse of red on the top of the building to his left. He crouched behind an extension of the roof and peered out at the uniformed officer.

The Prot was holding a laser rifle and pacing around the square edge of the building. Just seeing him walk like he owned part of Merlin’s private area was enough to make Merlin’s body tremble with rage. His hands yearned for a throat to wrap fingers around.

Merlin decided he’d have a bit of fun before he finished the last leg of his short journey. He twitched his little finger and the light the guard was passing went out. The Prot raised his rifle and looked through the scope in the wrong direction while Merlin silently made his way across the street to the protected building.

The red had resumed his patrol when he saw that it was probably just a faulty bulb, and was now about to walk past where Merlin was hanging by his fingers off the side of the roof. Right after the guard had his back to him, Merlin pulled himself up and caught the man by surprise from behind.

He had crouched and swung his leg out so that the Prot lost his footing and fell backwards. Merlin quickly straddled him and disarmed him, throwing the laser rifle thirty feet away, then began beating his face in. Merlin’s knuckles were covered in blood from the man’s nose and lip. He managed to nick the skin on his middle knuckle from punching in the Prot’s teeth too hard. Too late the officer realised what was happening, and he grabbed Merlin’s thin wrists and pushed the boy away.

“Shit,” the Prot suddenly swore. “You’re the mad one. Merlin.” He started shuffling backwards in the direction of his rifle.

Merlin gave his most wicked grin and rose from a crouch with feline grace. The officer reached for his radio to call for backup but Merlin was quicker. He leaped forward and twisted the arm so his hand dropped the small device. It shattered when it hit the stone.

“This is between me and you,” Merlin growled, adrenaline pumping from the excitement of battle.

Merlin brought the man down with a sudden roundhouse kick to the skull, this time pinning his arms with his legs and started pounding his head into the stone repeatedly. The guard’s eyes were going blank when Merlin got up and stepped back. He didn’t want to kill the Prot, just send a warning.

“Stay off my roof,” he spat, kicking the Protector in the side with deep satisfaction. “All of you.”

He wiped his bloodied hands on the Prot’s jacket then ran off and didn’t stop again until he reached the top of the bar they were to meet at. The building was low, squished between two taller structures. As a second thought, Merlin climbed back up to one of those where he’d have a better view.

He switched his mic on. “In position.”

“Good,” Leon’s voice came through the earpiece. “We’re almost there. Leaving the Tube now. Any reds?”

Merlin scanned the crowded street below but saw no shady van or suspicious loiterers. “All clear.” As if on cue, a helicopter passed silently over his head and he pressed his body flat against the roof. “Shit.”

“What’s up?”

“Nothing. I’ll take care of it.”

There was a pause, then a long drawn out sigh. “What have you done now?”

“Nothing!”

“Yeah, well ‘nothing’ better not get in the way of our mission. We need this, Merlin.”

That’s when Elyan joined the conversation. “I’m seeing a helicopter in the area, making its way a few streets over from the meet location.”

“Goddammit, Merlin,” Leon sighed again. “I don’t care how you handle it, but do it before we get there. If our man even suspects Prot activity, he’s out.”

“Got it.”

Merlin switched his mic off. He coiled his magic inward and focused with his entire mind, then slowly pushed it outward.

Another Merlin now stood beside him, just as solid but not nearly as smart. In fact, the clone had only one instruction in its simple mind: lead the helicopter as far away as possible. When the aircraft eventually gave up the search, Merlin would pull his magic back in and the clone would disappear into thin air.

The Other Merlin ran off in the direction of the Prot search party while the original stayed behind. He was on high alert now, and regretting his earlier decision to confront the trespassing officer. But the bastard had been on _his_ rooftop, and he’d be damned if he hadn’t done something about it.

His plan was working. The helicopter had landed near the beaten Prot’s body and the guards that jumped out were now pursuing the fleeing Merlin over the city. When Leon and Arthur arrived, the Other Merlin had led them nearly to the edge of Camelot.

“I see you now,” Merlin commented as he looked down and saw the pair of them approach the entrance. “Arthur, turn your mic on.”

There was a soft click as Arthur did.

“Did you take care of the situation?” Leon asked.

Elyan answered for him. “No Prots in the area. You’re good.”

“Do you have a visual?”

There was the sound of keys being pressed as Elyan typed away on his keyboard.

“I’m in. Our man is sitting at a booth in the back. On your left when you walk in.”

Arthur spoke for the first time. “You hacked into their security cameras?”

“You make it sound so difficult,” Elyan said with an amused snort. “It’s a low budget pub, not the Prot tower. Though that is a task I’m quite looking forward to.”

“Alright, we’re going in,” Leon announced. “Are you ready, Arthur?”

Arthur must have nodded because there was no response on the headset.

“Alright,” Leon repeated. “Let’s do this.”

It wasn’t Arthur’s first time in a bar, but it was his first time in one of such low standards. It was smelly, the people were loud and obscene, and the whole place was just generally dirty. Arthur hoped they wouldn’t be in there for long.

They made their way casually to the back where their contact was sitting—how Elyan knew who to look for was a mystery to Arthur—and sat down across from him, Arthur on the outside.

The man had his hood up, and when he lifted his face they saw the only his eyes were visible, the lower part of his face being hidden under a scarf.

“Who’s this?”

There was a short moment of silence after their contact had spoken. Because that was the voice of a _woman_ , not a man.

“Th-this is Arthur. He’s taking the place of Percival tonight,” Leon explained, stuttering only once after the initial surprise, for which Arthur silently commended him.

The shrouded woman nodded in understanding. “He would have attracted attention. It’s pleasing to know you lot are capable of making _some_ wise decisions.”

Leon’s fists clenched beneath the table but he kept his face passive.

“Mordred’s been compromised,” the woman said. “They found evidence of his treachery and now he’s in prison. They’re probably going to kill him. Morgana is still deciding.”

Arthur burned to ask “How do you know?” but he kept himself in check. He was here as a silent bodyguard and nothing else. He went back to scanning the pub casually.

“We have to get him out.”

“We have to do no such thing,” she disagreed. “Mordred knew the risks when he offered his services. He assured us he was the best and it was his own fault for getting caught. We are not going to risk everything just for him. If he dies, he dies.”

Arthur thought this woman was certainly cruel, more so than the familial Knights. But then, the Protectors were just as bad.

“Okay. What about Dawn? Is there any talk of where the Son might be?”

Arthur’s eyes glanced in the lady’s direction at the same time hers moved to his. He quickly looked away. Leon didn’t notice the exchange but Arthur’s heart pulsed quickly.

“Some. By now he will have almost certainly dyed his hair and taken up residence somewhere in Lower Camelot, perhaps presenting himself as a beggar or bartender. Others believe that his appearance means nothing at all, that his training has simply ended and he’s become a full Protector, ready to patrol like any normal red.”

“And the increased patrols?”

“Not just increased: improved. A special section has been created within the Protectors, so secret only a select few know about it. The people in that force aren’t even called Protectors, they’re called Infiltrators. Some of them are women.”

“Women?” Leon echoed, disbelieving. Arthur was taken off guard as well. “Uther would never allow a woman to be in a position of such rank. Morgana’s only allowed because—”

“New methods, new rules,” the woman shrugged. “He’s trying to use tactics that take us by surprise.”

“This is troubling news.” Leon ran a rough hand over his tired face. “So what about these Infiltrators? What do they do?”

“Exactly what it sounds like they do. Put simply: they’re spies. Just as some people think the Son is doing, they pretend to be normal Lower Camelot or alley dwellers. They walk amongst us, gathering information, writing down names of people they believe will someday rise against the Protectors and making them disappear before that can happen.”

“How do we combat this?”

“We can’t. We can simply trust no one.”

Leon sat back in his seat and sighed. “Okay. Is there anything else we should know?”

“There is one thing.” She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a small, grey, metal cube with a single word etched into it: SNAP. “My employer insists that you give this to Merlin. It’s supposedly very important.”

“To Merlin?” Both Arthur and Leon asked in unison. On the headset, Merlin howled in laughter.

“Yes,” she replied, disapproval evident in her tone and the set of her eyebrows. “He believes that the boy will play an important role in the coming weeks. I’m guessing this is a gift, or a sign of encouragement of some sort.”

Leon raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Merlin? _Our_ Merlin? Has he not heard the stories about him?”

Merlin protested. “Hey, don’t doubt my skills. I told you I have talents!” Leon ignored the voice in his ear, instead listening to the woman.

“He has. Yet he still holds unwavering faith in the boy. Maybe one day we will all understand. Maybe Merlin will save us all.”

Arthur couldn’t help but snort. “Doubtful.”

“I’m in agreement with you.”

Leon leaned forward. “Am I allowed to ask who your employer is?”

“He’s the one that calls. The one that only speaks to Merlin.”

“ _Him_?! You’ve seen him?”

She shook her head. “No. Nobody has seen him. But he says that one day, all the Knights will. He plans especially to aid Gaius when the time comes.”

“This is a lot to think on. Thank you...what’s your name?”

“I will not tell you my real name, but like my employer I have an alias. You may call me Nimueh.”

“Thank you, Nimueh.”

Nimueh looked directly at Arthur and motioned for him to hold his hand out. She placed the cube in his upturned palm. “I trust you will get this safely to the Mad Scout.”

Arthur wanted to ask “Why me?” but again held his tongue. There was something in her deep gaze that both frightened and mesmerised him.

He simply nodded and he and Leon stood to go. When he looked over his shoulder as they were about to step back out into the chilly October night, Nimueh was gone.

Merlin followed Leon and Arthur as they walked back to the nearest hidden Tube entrance, shadowing them from above. Halfway through their meeting with Nimueh he’d released the hold on his clone and was now back at full magical capacity.

“Arthur, you’ll be staying out a while later with Merlin for more training. I’m going back to the Castle to talk this news over with the others,” Leon said. “You’ve already relayed the information, right Elyan?”

“Sure have,” the techie replied over the headset. “Everyone’s up to speed. Just waiting to plan our next move.”

“Good. Merlin, where do you want Arthur to meet you?”

“Corner of Westminster and Pemberley,” Merlin said.

“That’s a bit of a walk,” Leon remarked disapprovingly.

“He’s been fine on his own out here for a month. He can walk.”

It wasn’t true, but Arthur wasn’t going to say anything. If he couldn’t defend himself against crazy drug addicts or insistent whores, he really had no right to call himself a Protector-in-training.

“Fine with me,” Arthur said.

“How much longer do I have to babysit you two?”

“Go on ahead, Merlin,” Leon waved, knowing the scout could see him.

Merlin switched off his mic and ran ahead. He had some serious pickpocketing to do if he wanted to make fifty gold before Arthur met him at Westminster.

Merlin was late. It had only been five minutes, but considering it took fifteen to get here, and Merlin had had a head start, the fact was disconcerting. Arthur really hoped he wasn’t buying drugs again or causing any more of his father’s helicopters to come by.

A girl of about thirteen or fourteen came up to Arthur and stood next to him. Arthur gave her a questioning glance. She tapped her ear before saying anything and Arthur got the hint. He checked that the mic was muted and took off his headset.

“Morgana says not to worry about what happened this morning and that they’re looking into the pub woman now. Also you’re doing a good job.”

The girl ran away before Arthur could ask her anything and he was left to stare open-mouthed after her. Then he felt a tug on his other sleeve and jumped when he saw Merlin.

“You took your headset off,” the scout said.

“Oh, yeah. It was bothering my ear,” Arthur lied quickly. “Just about to switch it to the other one.” He placed it on the opposite ear as before. “So what will you be training me in tonight?”

Merlin smiled broadly, that twinkle of madness present in his eyes again. “Remember what I said earlier today? Well, we never did get to fight before dinner. I’ll show you how fighting is really done.”

“Oh, you’re kidding me. Alright then, name the place. I’m ready when you are.” Arthur replied, grinning like he’d already won.

“Not so fast. Where’s this gift from Kil—the phone man?”

Arthur reached into his pocket—which had zips, all of his new trousers had zips—and handed it over to Merlin, who looked at it curiously. When he saw the word carved into the metal, his eyes widened.

“You know what it means?”

Merlin’s only response was to whisper, “He knows.” Then he chuckled bitterly. “But then, he knows everything, doesn’t he?”

“The man that talks to you?”

Merlin’s eyes lost their distracted, far away look and he shoved the cube into a pocket halfway down his leg. “Don’t worry about it, mate. What you should be worried about is the arse kicking you’re about to get.”

Arthur saw the deflection for what it was but didn’t trouble himself about it. He’d find out sooner or later, he was sure.

“You still haven’t named a place yet.”

Merlin pointed upwards. “Top of this building. I’ll even be nice and take the lift up with you.”

Arthur scowled. “How kind.”

“Well, it’s been a long night, for some more than others,” Arthur said, stretching as they left the Tube and entered one of the Castle’s numerous corridors. “Unless you want a rematch, we should probably head straight to sleep.”

Merlin bumped into Arthur purposefully, knocking him into the wall of the hallway. “You cheated. You can’t pin someone’s arms down like that. That’s so cheating!” Merlin didn’t mention the fact that he’d done the same thing to a Prot only that same night.

“A fight’s a fight, Merlin. Doesn’t matter how, I still won. Don’t be a sore loser.” Arthur smiled.

Merlin grumbled but inwardly grinned. “So I underestimated you a bit. Big deal.”

They walked in silence until they reached their shared room. Merlin didn’t enter, just kept walking.

“You go on to sleep,” he waved back at Arthur. “I’m going to stay up a while.”

Arthur frowned but didn’t follow. He went into the room and resolved to wait a few minutes before going to check things out. He was almost certain Merlin was going to the phone room.

And Merlin did. He triangle jumped onto a relatively low platform and sat cross-legged, turning the smooth metal cube in his hands. Then, as the engraving instructed, he snapped his fingers and the cube folded open.

The holographic image of a dragon appeared and spoke in Kilgharrah’s voice. “Hello Merlin. You may be wondering why I’ve chosen to contact you this way. I’ve told you time and again that the phone in that room is untraceable, and that remains true, as it always will. I put it there myself and no one knows how to operate its complex machinery but me. Even your highly skilled Elyan would be baffled by such designs.

“The reason is this: Only you can access this message. With a snap of your fingers, you can open and close this cube as many times as you wish. The instructions I’m going to give you are of the utmost importance, and I don’t want you to forget them. I know you have a tendency to…indulge in certain activities, and may need a reminder every now and then.”

Merlin snorted. Of course Kilgharrah would send him a replayable message just because he got high a little too often.

The image continued. “If this falls into the wrong hands, they won’t be able to do a thing with it but smash it to pieces in frustration. You are special.

“You and you alone can bring about the end of the Knights, the true and rightful end. You must get close to Arthur, become his most trusted friend, and make him see the correct way. Right now, he is a danger to you all.

“Arthur is the Son.”

Merlin gaped. Arthur? The _Son_? Merlin had kissed—oh gods, more than kissed—the bloody Son?!

Right. Priorities. Arthur—the Son—was in the Knights. That sneaky, conniving, two-faced, bastard!

But the dragon went on. “The prophecy is true. He will either help drag the city into ruin or lead the Knights to usurp his father. As of this moment, he wears contact lenses with hidden cameras and his ring functions as a microphone that controls what he records. The footage goes straight to Morgana, who watches in her office.

“But Arthur can be swayed. He has already felt the beginnings of affection for you and the Knights. Befriend him, Merlin. Bring him to our side, persuade him of our cause, convince him to turn against his father and all the evil he stands for. Arthur can and will be the great leader that he was born to be, and you will help bring about a new, peaceful era.

“The fate of Camelot and her people rests on your shoulders.”

The hologram faded and the cube folded itself back together. This...this was a lot to take in. Arthur was the Son, (would he ever get over that?) and had been spying on them for two days now. Morgana had seen everything Arthur had seen, had heard all Arthur had heard, and now Kilgharrah wanted Merlin to get all buddy-buddy with him. Right. That made perfect sense.

What he _should_ do is just go kill the traitor in his sleep right now. But just thinking about that made Merlin feel sick to his stomach. Even though his every instinct was telling him to beat the spy to a pulp, he had a frustrating urge to hold him instead.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

Merlin didn’t want to think about anything right now. It hurt too much right now. He took the bag of heroin out of his pocket and his pipe bowl out of another. He magically refashioned it into a clear glass pipe then paused. He probably wouldn’t want to be too high off the ground for this.

Merlin relocated himself so he was leaning against the platform he was previously on and prepared to smoke. He created a magic flame under the glass until smoke appeared, then brought the pipe to his lips and inhaled deeply.

It didn’t take too long for the high to creep its way in and soon Merlin felt himself floating closer and closer to the unpainted ceiling, whether literally or metaphorically, he couldn’t tell. Tendrils of his magic seeped through his skin but he found himself not caring in his euphoric state. This was his private room. Nobody came in here uninvited.

Merlin closed his eyes and let the numbness take over. Pretty soon would come the rush, and then the nodding off, and all the painful things he’d had to think about would be nonexistent for a few hours.

Then he heard his name being called. Again. And again. He wished whoever it was would give up and go away. There was a kick in his side, but he barely felt it. He was disconnected from his body.

“Merlin!” The voice shouted at him, right in his face. “Merlin, it’s Arthur. Can you hear me? Merlin!”

“Fmmff,” Merlin mumbled in an attempt to say “Fuck off.”

Arthur groaned. “Dammit, Merlin.”

Arthur wanted to smash the glass pipe beside the slumped scout, and dump whatever the light brown powder was down the drain. Instead he twisted his ring and settled down to sleep next to Merlin. He’d just have to wait until the stupid druggie woke up.


	2. Merlin, Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful of all.” - Mulan

At first it was because of his large ears and because he only had a mum instead of both parents like normal kids. Then it was because he liked boys when he should have liked girls. Overall, those first fifteen years spent in the small town of Ealdor were the worst.

The first time it happened, when he was six and the other boys wouldn’t let him play with them, he trotted sullenly off to the forest to entertain himself with his magic. Nobody went to the forest anymore, so he was sure to be alone.

In fact, he was alone whenever he wasn’t with his mother. It wasn’t just his ears or his lack of a father; the others could sense his differences and excluded him from their activities. Because he was such an easy target and couldn’t stand up for himself, the boys teased him whenever they caught him walking home from school or from the forest, chasing him until they finally grew tired and gave up. Merlin began to dread waking up and facing another day. It was a miracle if he could go a solid twenty-four hours without getting snatched up by the collar and kicked to the ground.

But if they couldn’t catch him, they couldn’t beat him. So he ran. And over the years, he began to run faster.

When he played alone, he made up his own games. He became a legendary explorer on alien planets, pretended to be at war with savage tribes across the river, and so forth. With his unique abilities he could conjure breezes that stirred the leaves and gave away enemy positions, or create odd-shaped footprints in the ground that signalled the presence of an undiscovered species in the unexplored land.

When he was thirteen, such games lost their appeal. Most of the time he lost himself in books, but he still went out to the forest. Instead of creating, he destroyed. Trees became warped into makeshift beds to accommodate his lanky frame, flames danced in a clearing as Merlin’s hands waved to guide their movements. When he was particularly morose, a clear day would suddenly cloud up and rain would beat down on him even through the thick canopy above.

All the anger he had to hold in at school, he let out in the forest. If he went far away from town, he could dare to summon small bursts of fireworks or punch holes into trees by channelling magic into his fist. He kept his power secret, not because he’d be taken to a facility as his mum had said, but because he didn’t need to give people another reason to think he was a freak.

And wasn’t that what he was? There were other kids with large ears, and even some few in their small town that fancied blokes, but nobody, nobody else in the _whole world_ , could do what he could. His mother said it made him special, precious, but Merlin just wanted to be normal.

Halfway through age thirteen he learned of a boy at his school that could make his problems disappear for a while. This boy was older because he kept failing and couldn’t move up to the next year. He was also from the city—which city it was nobody knew for sure—and had friends that supplied him with high quality marijuana.

Blending into a crowd was easy. Merlin was usually ignored anyway (unless some of his crueller classmates were in a mood) and he found that with his abilities, he could make himself seem less present, practically invisible. Weekend after weekend he would take a walk through the busier part of Ealdor then go to Thomas’s house to buy a gram.

Whenever he disappeared into the forest for hours, he would strip down to just his pants so his mother wouldn’t smell the weed on his clothes. School became just a monotonous time of imprisonment between the days he could get high. Like the years spent pretending to be an explorer or a warrior, weed was a way for him to take a break from reality, to escape the pain that came with everyday life.

At fourteen Merlin found out the other advantage to his abilities. He’d smoked a whole gram in one long night that seemed to never end, and somehow wound up naked by the shore of a river. He thought he’d go for a swim maybe, or perhaps he was just too hot in the muggy July air. Whichever, he made his way into the water, as if in a trance, and floated peacefully on his back, staring up at the stars. After a few minutes his body began to glow faintly, and he felt himself being cleansed. Fifteen minutes later when he got out of the river, he felt better than he had in his entire life. Sights seemed to sparkle with crystal clarity, his body thrummed with electric energy, and his bare toes curled in the dirt seemed to be roots connecting him with a bigger _something_. He felt infinite.

Fifteen years old and he didn’t care anymore. He was high practically all the time and his mother could do nothing about it. How did an ordinary woman discipline an extraordinary child? Merlin stopped going to school and nobody noticed his absence, or if they did, they didn’t care. He spent more and more time with Thomas and soon made friends with his city mates, and by the time summer came round again, Ms Emrys had had enough. She put her foot down. No son of hers would behave in such a disrespectful way as long as he lived under her roof. Merlin wasn’t about to stop what he was doing and let the pain of loneliness creep back into his life. He had no way of knowing his mother had been bluffing, so he ran away.

It wasn’t the best reason, but Merlin had been high (as he almost always was), and it seemed like as good a reason as any. He threw some clothes in a bag and started hopping airbuses until he got to Camelot. It was truly amazing how one snap decision made while intoxicated could change the history of an entire population forever.


	3. Dawn, Continued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be.” - Kurt Vonnegut, _Mother Night_

Arthur woke with a gasp. At first he didn’t know where he was, only that his back ached from lying on a flat surface for so long. Then he realised he was being held, and that was the most disorienting thing of all.

“Merlin?” He looked down at the pale hand that rested on his chest then up into the sleeping face framed by dark hair. His head was pillowed in Merlin’s lap. “Merlin?”

Arthur slipped out of Merlin’s embrace and stood up, then thought better of it as the blood rushed to his head all at once. He saw the pipe still sitting guiltily in the middle of the floor and remembered. He picked up what was left of the bagged powder and put it in his pocket.

Arthur sighed. “Merlin.” He shook the boy’s shoulders. “Merlin, get up.”

“Hmmph,” Merlin groaned. “Whassit?” He didn’t open his eyes or raise his head.

“Get up, Merlin.”

“Fuck off, ya twat.”

“Fine. I’ll just fuck right off to Leon’s chambers and show this bag of whatever the hell it is I found lying around—”

“Alright, alright, I’m up!” Merlin lifted his head but his eyes were still cloudy with sleep and a faded high. “Where’s it? Give it.”

He stood shakily and moved forward to pat Arthur down and take back what was his but Arthur easily stepped out of Merlin’s reach.

“What’re you playing at? Give it to me,” Merlin demanded, his anger bringing clarity.

Arthur swatted Merlin’s hands away and they chased each other around the room, which was not easy in Merlin’s current condition. Finally Merlin had enough. He flicked his index finger and Arthur suddenly lost his footing.

“Oof.” The breath left Arthur’s lungs as he hit the floor.

Merlin turned him over and placed his knees on both sides of his hips so he couldn’t get away. “Hold still, dammit.” He grabbed Arthur’s wrists and pinned them above his head. “If you’d given me what’s mine we wouldn’t have to be in this position.”

Merlin seemed to realise just what position they were in at the same time Arthur did, because Arthur suddenly stopped squirming and resisting. Quickly, Merlin tightened his grip so one hand could hold both of Arthur’s wrists and he used the other to pick the bag out of the pocket. Then he stood up and placed the treasure in his own.

Merlin smirked down at Arthur with satisfaction. Arthur propped himself up on his elbows and looked back at him seriously.

“We need to talk.”

Merlin laughed. “And just what do we need to talk about? Besides the fact that you’re in _my_ room.”

“Well, obviously, the fact that you’re getting stoned out of your mind on a daily basis.”

“I told you, I do what want, no matter what Leon or Gaius may say.” Merlin crossed his arms and stood defiantly.

Arthur realised that he didn’t like being looked down on and stood so he was eye level with Merlin. “What about what I say?”

Merlin didn’t answer, just bent to clean up his earlier mess and put everything away. It seemed important not to let on that he knew Arthur was a lying little bitch-boy.

“Why do you do it?” Arthur asked.

Done getting rid of the evidence, Merlin ran a shaky hand through his tousled hair and started pacing.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try to make me.”

“It...makes me feel better? I don’t know. It’s a break from this shit reality we all live in.” He didn’t mention that it was Arthur’s father that was the cause of said shit reality, or that he’d started getting high years before he ever set foot in Camelot.

Arthur brought his eyebrows together in concentration. “You’re unhappy? But you always seem so...so...”

“The exact opposite?” Merlin ended for him. “I’ve got to be. Do you know how many people I’ve killed, Arthur? The things I’ve seen that nobody else has?” He sighed and pushed back the thoughts threatening to rise to the surface. “I told you you wouldn’t understand.” And why was he even telling Arthur all this anyway? He hadn’t even told Gaius any of this. And Arthur was the _Son_ for fuck’s sake.

“So it does bother you then? The killing?”

“Of course it bloody bothers me, you clotpole!” Merlin yelled. “I’m not a—a monster.” His voice broke on the last word and he wrapped his arms around his chest, as if holding himself together.

“Oh my gods,” Arthur gasped, coming to a sudden realisation. “You’re not mad. You’re not mad at all, are you? You’re just pretending. Ha! You’re completely sane!”

Merlin stopped hugging himself and grabbed Arthur’s shoulders in a death-grip. “Shut up. You shut up right now!”

“But why? Why act all mental?”

“I’m not acting! Not acting at all! See?” He started hitting himself in the head and jumping around and screaming at the top of his lungs until Arthur was bent over from laughter.

“What’s so goddamn funny?” Merlin asked indignantly.

“You are.”

Merlin huffed and turned to storm out of the room. He didn’t have to prove anything to anyone, least of all Arthur. But a sudden wave of dizziness made him stumble and as his knees hit the hard floor he was overcome with a coughing fit.

When Merlin collapsed, Arthur ran to the shaking body. “Merlin, are you alright?”

He gathered Merlin in his arms unthinkingly and rubbed circles into his back. Merlin’s body racked with spasms like he was about cough up his organs, and Merlin gripped Arthur’s shirt tight in one hand, while Arthur held the other.

When Merlin’s coughing fit was over, he leaned into Arthur’s embrace and caught his breath, just like he had with Mother. He all of a sudden didn’t mind much if Arthur was the Son, he just really liked being there in Arthur’s strong arms, warm and safe.

After a few minutes, Arthur echoed Gwen’s words, asking, “Mind telling me what just happened?”

Merlin didn’t reply, just clutched tighter at Arthur’s chest. After another short while, Merlin wrapped his arms fully around him and Arthur felt his shirt getting wet. Merlin was crying.

“It’s okay, Merlin,” Arthur said, surprising himself. “I’ve got you.”

Arthur wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that. Probably twenty minutes if he had to guess. He was lost deep in thought as he held Merlin, reliving the past few days with the new knowledge that Merlin was not, in fact, mad after all.

Sitting there, holding the invincible Mad Scout, Arthur wondered that he hadn’t seen it earlier. Merlin’s behaviour had all seemed so utterly rehearsed now that he thought about it: the exaggerated rudeness at the dinner table, the lopsided smiles, the subtle but very present breaks in character. Gwen had been right all along. Merlin wasn’t mental and he certainly wasn’t daft. He was just odd.

But there was also the matter of what happened the day before, when Merlin freaked out over his having laughed at him. Was it normal for someone intoxicated to act that way, or had that been all Merlin? Was it possible that Merlin was only slightly insane?

Merlin’s voice suddenly pierced the silence. “It’s so easy to end someone’s life,” he said quietly. “It’s amazing really, how a laser or a piece of metal or just a few seconds of wrapping your hands around someone’s throat can cut short a whole existence. It’s _too_ easy. Something so final should be difficult.”

Near the end, Merlin’s voice had begun to quiver. Arthur put aside questions of sanity and instinctually lowered his head to place a reassuring kiss on the top of the scout’s forehead.

He froze, mortified by what he’d done. It was one thing to be this close to Merlin, almost like they were friends, but it was another to _accidentally kiss him._ Their mutual hallway wankfest had been bad enough.

Arthur tried to remind himself that he was on a mission. But Merlin wasn’t making it easy, looking up at him with wide, trusting grey-blue eyes and pink, plump lips begging to be kissed again and again and again.

 _How could I_ not _kiss him?_ Arthur would think to himself later. This was Merlin and he was crazy—no, not crazy, hurt—and childish, and unpredictable and had a major drug problem, but none of that seemed to matter when he stared deep into Merlin’s eyes. There was a sadness there he’d never seen before—well, he’d seen it, but not to the extent that Merlin was now allowing him to. No smile rushed to hide the pain. And Arthur also saw that maybe, just maybe, beneath his hard exterior, Merlin was actually quite kind.

So Arthur kissed him, full on the lips, once, twice, five times before bringing his hand up to cup the tear-stained cheek. They seemed to melt into one being, so in sync they were with each other. At the same time that Merlin’s lips parted to invite Arthur in, Arthur had thought he’d really like to plunge his tongue deep into Merlin’s mouth and explore him, taste him.

This kiss was nothing like the rough, sloppy snogging they’d done in the hallway, or the chaste peck they’d had moments before returning to the main atrium that same day. This was deep and loving, and utterly soul-binding. Merlin knew in that moment that even though Arthur was the Son of big bad Uther, he was good, _truly_ good, and Arthur similarly knew he loved the odd scout, that that was the reason why everything always came back to him.

They parted with a sigh. Merlin’s eyes shone with a glimmer of happiness Arthur had seen not even when Gwen looked at Lance. A single tear escaped from Merlin’s left eye but the warm smile on his face countered it, and, again unthinkingly, Arthur wiped the tear away with a gentle swipe of his thumb.

The way they held other, both of their bodies shaking from being filled to the brim with sudden explosive affection, was desperate and needy. Arthur’s life until then had been centred around impressing his father and becoming a Protector worthy of praise. He’d always felt as if he was missing something, some incentive to keep living other than to do what his father expected of him. Now it was clear that that something was Merlin.

And Merlin, he had always been a freak what with his magic and unnaturally pale skin and oversized ears. He’d always known something wasn’t quite right in his life, and that was part of the reason why he’d delved into drugs. He had wanted Arthur physically from the moment he’d laid eyes on him, that being why he’d acted on his urge to kiss him in the hallway that first time. That it had ended up as something more was an added bonus. But this dam of unexpected _feelings_ that had burst just from being held in Arthur’s arms a few minutes...the depth of such affection was overwhelming. Too overwhelming.

Merlin moved away first, Arthur being too stunned to function at the moment. He had done the exact opposite of what he’d been told to do: he’d gotten too close to the job. And it had only been two days.

When they both had enough time to get their features under control, Merlin stood and jumped back into character with the ease of a practised actor.

“What do you think you’re doing in _my_ room, Arthur? I never invited you in here.” He put his hands on his hips, thought better of it, and crossed his arms over his chest instead, giving Arthur his best sneer.

Arthur got up as well and mirrored Merlin’s stance. He wondered if Merlin, like him, was struggling not to close the distance between them and melt together again. “You were just as exhausted as I was a few hours ago. However many hours that was.” Because Arthur honestly had lost track of time. “Excuse me for wanting to know what the hell was so important to do before getting some sleep.”

“If you wanted to know so badly you should have just asked.”

“Right, and I suppose you would have told me.”

“I would have. I don’t have anything to hide. Do you?”

That caught Arthur off guard and Merlin saw it in the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down when he swallowed.

“No.” Arthur regained his confidence. “So you’re saying if I go to Leon right now, he won’t mind a bit that you’ve been smoking...whatever that brown stuff is?” He waved a hand to Merlin’s pocket.

“He knows I smoke heroin. He knows everything. And he’ll threaten to kick me out, but so what? At the end of the day, he needs me. They all do. And they’ll continue to put up with me as long as they have to. I told you this the other day.”

Arthur smirked. “Is that so? Because Gwen thinks otherwise. Told me so herself yesterday. And besides, I could always take your place. How hard could it be to run across a few rooftops?”

Merlin grew furious at that and pushed Arthur roughly. Arthur pushed back and from there it quickly escalated into a fight.

“Going for a rematch after all then, Merlin?” Arthur teased.

“And going to win this time, _princess._ ”

Arthur growled and tackled Merlin to the floor. They rolled around for a bit, fighting for the top, until Arthur had Merlin pinned down under him. He shook the lanky boy by the shoulders, causing Merlin’s head to slam into the hard floor repeatedly. Arthur didn’t want to hurt Merlin; hurting Merlin hurt himself as well. But they weren’t acknowledging their feelings and if they couldn’t like each other they had to hate each other.

Merlin gathered just enough strength to roll them over again so he was on top when the door to the phone room slid open and Leon was there.

“Merlin! Front room, now!” he ordered, angry at having to chastise Merlin once again.

“But—”

“I said _now_!”

Leon stormed away and Merlin got to his feet, glaring down at Arthur hatefully, and smirked.

“Guess that means I win this one since I ended up on top.”

“We were interrupted. I easily would have won,” Arthur disagreed.

“Whatever. Get the fuck out of my room and don’t come in here again, got it?”

Arthur stood and snorted. “Like I’d want to come back to this freakshow of a room anyways.”

With another quick shove on Merlin’s chest, he turned and stomped off. Merlin waited until the door closed behind him to walk over to the exit.

He leaned against the cold steel door with his forehead pressed to the glass window and sighed. No doubt Leon was going to ask Arthur what had been going on and Arthur would tell about the heroin. Then Leon would give him a talk, Gaius would look at him disapprovingly, and Mother would maybe start crying depending on her mood.

His feelings for Arthur and their weird situation wasn’t helping any. Merlin was so confused. The initial shock of Arthur being the Son had been pushed aside by the unexpected need to be held and kissed by him, the unexpected feelings of desire and affection.

And he couldn’t overlook the most important thing of all: the camera contact lenses. The image of the dragon had said Arthur’s ring controlled what was recorded. How much had Morgana up at the Prot tower seen?

All this was too much to think about. Merlin really just wanted to get high again, but there was no time for that. Leon wanted to see him in the main atrium right away, and he had stalled too long already. With another sigh, Merlin hit the button with his fist and left his colourful sanctuary.


	4. Arthur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “When I was 5 years old, my mother always told me that happiness was the key to life. When I went to school, they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wrote down ‘happy’. They told me I didn’t understand the assignment, and I told them they didn’t understand life.” - John Lennon

Arthur liked listening to the birds sing. The ones in the city didn’t sing nearly as nicely as the ones in the meadow. The birds in the meadow chirped happily together, like they were always celebrating something or remarking on how wonderful the weather was. In Camelot only one chirped at a time, and it sounded like a lonely cry for help.

Arthur didn’t get to go to the meadow often, especially now that he was growing up. Uther wanted him sparring more with Tristan and watching the trainees more with Morgana. Morgana was sixteen and could take down men twice her size. Arthur was good for a nine year old, but Uther said his footwork was below average. He was great with a laser rifle though.

Chewing his sandwich, Arthur glanced up at the Protectors three metres away from him. Their modern technology and stern appearance was out of place in nature. He’d asked Morgana countless times why they had to come with them on their picnics, and every time Morgana would shrug and say, “Father says so.”

“Did you want to play tag today, Arthur?” Morgana asked, sipping the last of her milk.

“No,” Arthur replied glumly. “It’s no fun with only two of us.”

“That never used to bother you before.”

Arthur picked at a blade of grass. “Does now.”

Morgana leaned back on her hands, letting the dirt get under her fingernails. It would be the only evidence of their outing when they returned to the city. “What did you want to do then?”

Arthur rummaged around in his pocket for the penknife his father had given him two birthdays ago. “I wanna carve my name in a tree.”

Morgana gave him that smile he hated. The one that said, “I remember when I used to enjoy little things like that. How good it was to be young and oblivious.” But she was only seven years older and still young herself, so Arthur didn’t see why she had to act so high and mighty.

“Alright,” Morgana said. “But it better be a _good_ tree. Not a wimpy one that’ll be gone next time it storms.”

They stood up and the guards moved in sync with them as they walked towards the forest. “ _Ob_ viously, Morgana. My name will be there forever. Even after I’ve died and my son’s died and his son’s died. For _ever._ ”

Morgana rolled her eyes at the theatrics. Arthur was always dramatic.

They didn’t go too deep into the forest, mostly because Arthur knew the guards wouldn’t like it. He wanted the tree he picked to be special, but he settled on a large, gnarled one that looked like it had already gone through a lot.

“A...R...T...H...U...”

“That looks more like a V than a U,” Morgana remarked, smirking.

“Shut up. It’s harder than it looks.” He carved in the final R and stood back to admire his work. “There. It’ll be here in this tree forever.”

“Or at least until Father decides to expand the city again and cuts it down.”

“Stop being so negative!”

One of the guards snickered and Morgana stuck her tongue out at her little half-brother, satisfied that someone else had found her joke amusing.

“Now what?” she asked.

Arthur jumped off the tree roots. “I dunno. Let’s go back to the clearing.”

Arthur walked in front of her, making a game of trying to hold the tree branches up until Morgana was close enough to be hit by the backlash. The sixth time that she got a face full of branches she pushed him and he fell forward on his elbow.

“Ow!” Arthur howled at the sharp pain. “I’m bleeding!”

“Serves you right. You were being a little shit.”

“I’m going to tell Father you made me bleed. And that you called me a little shit.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck what you do,” Morgana said rebelliously. Arthur glared at her but couldn’t do anything else.

They lay down on their blanket in the meadow for half an hour. Arthur didn’t want to go back to the city. He wanted to stay and listen to the birds and breathe in the air that smelled sweet instead of like the dirty people that lived in the alleys. He wanted the Protectors with their laser rifles to go away and stop making nature look wrong. But as always, the sun began to go down and they had to get back in their helicopter and go home.

Arthur got away with his short visits out of the city for four more years. When Morgana had matured enough to take on important responsibilities—the only woman in the Protectors to have any—and became too busy to accompany Arthur into nature, he convinced one of the guards he was friendly with to keep flying him out there. Kay was about the same age as Morgana and had a bit of a crush on Arthur’s half-sister. He would have done anything to get into her good graces (and her knickers).

With Morgana not there to tease him, and just Kay as his bodyguard, Arthur could venture out deeper into the forest. Kay didn’t mind playing games with Arthur and Arthur let himself laugh more freely, run and skip and enjoy childhood. As Arthur reached twelve and then thirteen, he and Kay began to have more in common. Kay became Arthur’s best—and only—friend, and the young Prot began accompanying him because he truly took pleasure in their excursions rather than to score points with Morgana. Though that was definitely still an added bonus.

Eventually Uther discovered his son’s continued outings and quickly called Arthur into his office to speak with him. “No more of this childish playing in the wood,” he ordered. “If you have time to sneak away like a thief, you have time to think like one. From now on I want you within the tower, supervised, at all times. Is that understood?”

When Arthur wasn’t in the tower, he was out with his father and Morgana, dining with important ambassadors or meeting the children of other heads of state from around the world. Uther often tried to delegate Arthur’s friendships in the hopes that strong alliances continue throughout succession. Being young and bitter at having his freedom denied, Arthur often rebelled and sat mute as such events.

And Uther never allowed him to go out for exclusively public appearances. Arthur was always kept busy in the tower while Morgana and Uther addressed the public in the city hall or via television broadcast. His entire day was scheduled by someone other than himself, and mostly consisted of sparring, shooting, lessons from his private tutor, and lounging about with some of the younger trainees.

At seventeen Arthur became prone to fits of rage until he decided it was time for a change. Every so often, usually twice a month, he’d have Kay drive him out into the city while Uther was away. Nobody had ever really seen him, being kept in the tower like a virgin princess most of the time, but Arthur put on a bit of a disguise anyway. He wore his most faded hoodie and jeans and ruffled his hair so it looked like he just rolled out of bed. He even wore false glasses, thick black-rimmed spectacles that were too large for his face. Vision correction was easily attained, and it made him look poorer than he actually was if he couldn’t even afford _that_ operation.

On these forbidden excursions, Arthur always started by going to a pub (the same one every time) and getting pissed, then had Kay drive him around while he simply enjoyed the thrill of disobeying his father. Sometimes Kay would invite his non-Protector friends along and they would pick up girls. Kay had a well-furnished flat on the good side of town that they all went back to. Most of the time they found a girl for Arthur, but Arthur never had any desire to go further than snogging. He blamed it on Kay’s horrible taste in women. Even so, he always had a good time.

Morgana knew all about Arthur’s little adventures, of course. Arthur was never able to keep a secret from her. But, evil harpy though she was, she had enough of a heart to let her little brother have his fun. Soon enough Uther would have him working as hard as she was, and he wouldn’t have time for fun, especially when the public eye was directly on him.

Arthur got a taste of just how hard Morgana’s job was that same year when the July Riot devastated the city, but besides losing a large amount of Protector acquaintances and giving Arthur nightmares for a couple weeks, the event hadn’t troubled him that much. He’d wondered why the Knights hated his Father so much (surely nothing could be so bad to justify hundreds of innocent deaths) but otherwise put it out of his mind and kept sneaking out with Kay.

 Morgana’s “soon enough” came three years later, when Arthur was half into his twentieth year. It was high time that Arthur stepped up and proved his worth to the state. Uther had a job for him, an important job, one that would change the course of Protector history forever. Countless hours spent training in the tower hadn’t been for nothing.

Arthur would venture out into the heart of Camelot, join the infuriatingly elusive Knights, and take them down from the inside out.


	5. Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up.” - Neil Gaiman, _The Sandman, Vol. 9: The Kindly Ones_

Arthur did not tell Leon about the heroin. It might have been because he loved the strange scout, but Arthur sure as hell wouldn’t admit that to himself. Instead he reasoned that if Merlin wanted to deal with being a murderer by self-medicating with drugs, he was in no position to interfere. He had no idea what it was like to know you had affected the lives of so many people by taking others.

All the Knights were seated silently at the round table they so commonly used when Merlin walked in with a bounce in his step and a crooked smile on his face.

“So what’s this all about needing me right away?” he said, sinking into the empty chair beside Arthur and propping his feet on the table.

Arthur, though he was still confused about his feelings for Merlin, turned his contacts on with a twist of his ring under the table.

Merlin caught the small action and swallowed the anger rising in his chest.

“Well, while you two were sleeping, the rest of us talked a great deal,” Leon replied. “We mainly discussed the information we received from Nimueh and what it means that she works for Kilgharrah.”

In the pause between Leon’s sentence, Merlin yawned loudly. “How long was I out for anyways?”

“It’s almost five now,” Elyan said, glancing at his wristwatch.

“So that’s what, ten hours of sleep? Odd, I certainly don’t feel like I got that much.”

“And you look like shit,” Percival added with a mocking expression.

“Thank you Perce, for your kind words as always,” Merlin returned with a scowl of his own.

“You are looking rather pale,” Gwen observed. “Do you feel alright?”

Merlin shot a quick glance at Arthur, raising an eyebrow so slightly that nobody else could have noticed. Arthur shook his head just as imperceptibly, meaning “No, I didn’t tell them.”

“I’m always pale,” Merlin remarked, grinning. “And I’m fine. Just tired is all. Now, what’s this about Nimueh?”

“Right.” Leon regained his place as head of the conversation. “The increased patrols we can deal with. It’s the Infiltrators we’re worried about. Merlin, go out on more missions to keep an eye on things upstairs. Let the squires know to keep an ear to the ground as well. Go to all our usual spots and talk to the alley dwellers.”

“And for gods’ sake, don’t frighten them,” Lance added. Everyone except Gaius got a chuckle out of that, even Merlin himself.

“I’ve got the charisma of...well, someone who’s got a lot of charisma. Like pretty boy over here.” Merlin jerked his head in Arthur’s direction.

Arthur started at the sudden attention brought to him and Leon straightened his back as he realised something.

“Good idea,” the leader said. “Take him with you.”

“ _What_?” Arthur and Merlin said in unison.

“No way.” Merlin planted his feet on the ground and slammed his palms down on the table. “He’ll slow me down. I can cover more area without having to babysit.”

“I’m as old as you. I don’t need babysitting,” Arthur snapped.

Leon nodded. “Two is better than one. He’ll get one neighbourhood while you get another.”

“Ugh! This is stupid,” Merlin huffed and crossed his arms. “He hasn’t even been properly trained.”

“We trained all last night!”

“Doesn’t mean you know everything.”

“I can handle talking to a few people. Or do you not trust me at all?”

Arthur was too anxious to hear Merlin say that yes, he did trust him, but then he remembered that there was really no reason he should.

Merlin sneered. “I just don’t trust you to get the job done right.”

“Enough,” Leon cut in. “He’s going with you whether you like it or not. It _is_ a fairly easy job.”

“What if one of the people he talks to actually is an Infiltrator? What happens then?” Gwen asked, always the voice of reason.

But Leon had considered that as well. “He’s new. Nobody associates him with us yet. They can’t take him in for being friendly and inquisitive.”

All except Merlin and Arthur nodded in agreement and they moved on to the next topic.

“Nimueh said that Kilgharrah intends to help Gaius ‘when the time comes.’ It’s unclear if that means he wants to take Uther’s place or simply aid us in creating the new government, but either way we will all support him. He’s helped us too much for us to start doubting his plans,” Leon explained.

“Who’s Kilgharrah?” Arthur asked.

Elyan opened his mouth to answer but Merlin cut him off. “He’s just this bloke that calls us every now and then.” Somehow it seemed crucial to Merlin that Arthur—and more importantly, Morgana—not know about Kilgharrah just yet. Their anonymous informant was too essential to be betrayed.

“Calls you?” Arthur repeated. “Is that what the telephone box is for?”

“Yeah.”

Elyan eyed Merlin suspiciously, obviously curious to know why Merlin had jumped to silence him. “Is there a reason why that’s all you want to tell him?”

Merlin narrowed his eyes at the techie. Elyan just had to go and ruin the discretion.

“Because of what I was told,” Merlin said icily.

“He told you something? What was it?” Lance perked up to ask. They all looked to him expectantly.

“Not supposed to tell you.” It wasn’t exactly true, but Merlin had a feeling that if the Knights found out Arthur was the Son, they wouldn’t take the news as well as he had.

Arthur watched Merlin with apprehension. If this Kilgharrah person knew his true identity, he was in trouble.

Unfortunately, Lance seemed to piece it together. “Is it that Arthur’s the Son? The timing was rather suspicious and he _is_ blond.”

Gwen slapped his arm. “Lance! How could you even suggest that?”

Arthur’s heart stopped and Merlin turned to look at him with just as much fear in his eyes. Arthur knew for sure then that Merlin knew his secret. There was no other reason for Merlin to be staring back at him like that. What Merlin had to fear though, was a mystery to be solved when they had a moment alone.

Ever the talented actor, the scout composed himself. “No, Lance, that’s not it. You know how Kilgharrah is. He wouldn’t tell us who he was until three months after he first contacted us, and even then he gave us an alias. He’s just wary of having new people know about him. And in a time like this, it’s good to take every precaution.”

“Wow,” Percival chimed in for the first time. “You sound almost sane, Merlin. One might even go so far as to say logical.”

Merlin’s eyes widened just enough to make him look childish as he frog-leaped onto the table.

“Nope. Lance is absolutely right. Arthur’s the Son and for some silly reason he’s come right into the lion’s den where Merlin the Mad Scout can do with him what he wishes!”

All except Gwen and Gaius laughed—Arthur rolled his eyes—and suddenly the idea of Arthur being the Son was utterly ridiculous. No one in their right mind would willingly choose to share a room with _Merlin._

“You know how I hate that nickname,” Gwen said, frowning.

“What, ‘the Mad Scout?’ It’s just what everyone calls me.” Merlin leaped off the table and back into his seat, then tilted his head like a curious puppy.

“I don’t think they mean it endearingly. I think it’s an insult.”

“So why did I get a gift?” Merlin reached into his pocket and took out the grey cube. “I mean it’s just a weird box but it’s still a gift. So _somebody_ likes me.” He grinned and held it up proudly.

“I was just going to ask about that actually,” Leon said. “Any idea what it means?”

Merlin shrugged. “None at all. Looks nice though, doesn’t it?” He threw it across the table to him.

Leon looked it over thoughtfully, but could see no hidden meaning in it. The edges were tightly sealed, so he knew the cube was not meant to open, but it felt hollow inside. Then there was the cryptic SNAP carved into it.

The cube was passed around the circle until it finally came back to Merlin, who pocketed it as if it were just a toy of insignificance, which to everyone else it seemed to be. Still Lance’s eyes were lost in thought as though he were still holding it in his hands and turning it over.

“Maybe he means for you to break it open?” Lance suggested. “There must be something inside. Why make something hollow if you don’t mean to keep anything in it?”

“Or what if it’s a clue,” Percival said. “Maybe we can only really be successful when Merlin completely snaps.” Perce earned himself a stern glare from Gwen for that.

Merlin shrugged again and stood. “Who knows? The man’s vague as fuck and is constantly giving me these riddles. Knowing him we’ll just ‘find out when the time comes.’ Now, if that’s all?”

Merlin didn’t wait for Leon’s dismissal, just climbed his way up into the rafters and disappeared like he had before.

Arthur watched him go thoughtfully and didn’t notice until a minute later that all eyes were on him.

“You think he knows, don’t you?” Leon asked.

Arthur nodded slowly. “I don’t know why he’s hiding it though. Has he always been so secretive?”

Gaius spoke for the first time. “He has his reasons. But he would never withhold important information from us. If we need to know something, he’ll tell us.”

“How can you be so sure?” Arthur questioned.

“I know Merlin.” The old man’s eyebrow raised a fraction higher. “And I think, so do you.”

Arthur tried not to shift in his seat, but he was anxious to go then. Everyone was looking at him inquisitively, and Arthur could practically see their minds working. Arthur certainly wasn’t ugly and neither was Merlin, and sharing a room could definitely lead to something more than friendship, especially between blokes the same age.

“Not really,” Arthur replied with an apologetic smile. “I just think there’s more to him than his madness. Maybe it comes and goes.” He shrugged. “Still, I don’t know him well enough to say whether or not I’d trust him with valuable information.”

Percival and Lance agreed but the rest looked down at the table contemplatively.

“Merlin is quite a mystery,” Leon said, nodding. “But when it comes to Knight business, he’s serious. He’s invested in our cause, and though he is a bit...eccentric, he’s dependable. Like last night with the helicopter. I told him to take care of it and he did, just like I knew he would. He may cause trouble but he never lets it affects others. Usually.”

“Besides giving people the creeps,” Percival added. “That smile of his certainly affects me. And I’m the one meant to do the intimidating.”

“That’s enough boys,” Gwen stood up and declared. “Talk about someone else for once. Stop treating Merlin like he’s some sort of human experiment.”

“Gwen is right,” Gaius agreed. “Merlin is just different. He can’t help being who he is.”

Arthur chewed his lip. They all had their own opinions of Merlin, but Arthur was the one who knew the truth. Possibly Gaius as well. He seemed to know more about Merlin than anyone, and was keeping secrets of his own.

Arthur wanted to sit down and have a long talk with the old man, but he felt it was more for personal reasons than any pertaining to his mission, and therefore squashed that course of action before he could think more of it.

“Do you want me to try talking to him?” he asked Leon as he stood to leave.

“I think that would be a good idea,” the leader replied. “But like Gaius said, sometimes Merlin does what he does for a reason. If it seems like that’s the case, or if he says so himself, it would best if you just backed off. As much as I get on him about things, I trust him.”

Trust. There was that word again. To make matters worse, they were all staring at him as if he were one of them. They trusted him too.

Arthur clenched and unclenched his fists. “Alright. I’ll see if I can find him.”

“Oh, and Arthur,” Leon called him back. Arthur turned. “Try not to get into another fight with him. His madness may come and go but he’s still dangerous.” Even Gwen didn’t protest that.

Arthur nodded, turned, and left.

As expected, Merlin was in the phone room, or _his_ room as he liked to call it. He was lying down on the highest platform with his legs dangling over the side. He was just in the middle of throwing his shirt down to the floor when Arthur came in.

Merlin didn’t hear the door slide open so when Arthur coughed to get his attention he was startled. “You’re in my room again,” he said, scowling down at the trespasser.

Arthur said nothing, just walked up to the wall of the platform and sat down with his back against it. He was aware that Merlin knew he was the Son. He needed to work out what he would say to him.

Merlin watched him a few minutes before standing and making his way down. He let his back hit the wall and slid down to sit beside Arthur. They sat listening to each other breathe.

This close to each other again, both thought back to what had happened in this same room less than an hour ago. That first time, in the corridor...that had been simple pent-up lust. Boys will be boys. But this second time...that was passion. There was no disguising the feeling behind that kiss. They’d tried sweeping it under the rug for the duration of the meeting, but being alone again, there was nothing left to do save figuring out where to go from here.

The silence stretched on. Merlin gave in and let his head fall to land on Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur stopped trying to piece together his thoughts and exhaled as he reached to hold Merlin’s hand in his own. He lost himself in the sensation and rested his head atop Merlin’s.

Their fingers entwined and Merlin brushed his thumb along Arthur’s ring. It was one of those that spun around a fixed band on the inside. When he felt it click, he knew it was turned off. Arthur figured Merlin was just playing with it idly. Either way he was glad to have the cameras and mic off. It seemed natural for him to move his arm the short distance and slip it around Merlin’s naked shoulders. Merlin scooted a bit closer and wrapped his own arms around Arthur’s warm chest and they were holding each other again.

Arthur liked this quiet Merlin, this sane, tamed, _normal_ Merlin. This one felt like the real one, the one behind all the smoke and mirrors, the goofy smiles and inappropriate remarks. The one that Merlin only allowed Arthur to see.

Arthur spoke first. He didn’t particularly want to. He’d be content to sit in silence with Merlin in his arms forever, but he came here for a reason. He’d promised Leon he would talk to him, and he had a mission.

He tried not to think about what would happen between him and Merlin when his mission was over.

“Thank you. For earlier,” was the first thing he thought to say. “For defending me when Lance said I was the Son.”

Merlin didn’t move, just raised his eyes up to meet Arthur’s, which stared down at him with honest appreciation. It suddenly made Merlin very angry.

With his free hand, Merlin slid off Arthur’s thumb ring and threw it across the room. It didn’t shatter into pieces like Merlin had hoped; it was too durable for that.

Arthur’s arm around him tensed but didn’t remove itself.  “How long have you known?” he asked in a carefully measured voice.

“Since I opened the cube.”

“You did find a way to open it then?”

The answer was obvious so Merlin didn’t address it. Instead he said, “It was a message from Kilgharrah. He told me who you are.” He looked up at Arthur again, and dared to caress his cheek with the same hand that had thrown the ring. Arthur seemed to like the intimate touch, even if Merlin normally wasn’t so gentle. “He believes you’ll do the right thing.”

“What do you believe?”

Merlin’s eyes travelled down Arthur’s face, from his wary gaze to his bitten lips, and stayed there. He wanted so badly to kiss those lips and forget about Knights, Protectors, and prophecies for a moment. Forget about bleeding corpses and hollow voices. But Arthur asked him a question.

“You didn’t tell them about the heroin.”

Arthur’s brows pushed together. The statement had nothing to do with what he’d asked. “What does that have to—”

“You’re a good man. You’re not like your father.”

“You think I’ll betray my family and side with the Knights?”

“I think you’ll do what’s best for Camelot.”

Arthur didn’t want to think about all this now. He wanted to sit here with Merlin in his arms and kiss him and touch him and maybe go a bit further than he had with all the girls Kay had tried to pair him with. But if he was to have any of that, he had to think this through.

He’d already learned of one thing his father was keeping from him. If he stayed a bit longer with the Knights, he would no doubt find out more. Just walking through the alleys and the sewers showed him that his father had not, in fact, built the perfect city.

Uther and Morgana were his flesh and blood, but already the Knights were beginning to feel like more of a family than they ever did.

“I honestly don’t know what I’ll do yet,” Arthur admitted. “I haven’t seen many of the so-called injustices you claim my father has done, besides the poisoned food, but I know for sure that he was wrong about you all. The Knights can’t be the bad guys here. Not with someone like Gwen among them.”

Their faces were already so close. Merlin inched forward so that their noses were touching and their lips just centimetres apart.

“Among _us_. You’re a Knight too, you know,” the scout corrected.

Arthur suddenly had trouble breathing. Merlin completely overwhelmed his senses, and he wanted nothing more than to close the short distance between them.

“No. I’m not sure what I am. I spent almost my whole life in the tower. I was trained to be the best Protector on the force...”

“But?”

“But I like it here. I feel more accepted here than I do by my real family. And...”

“And what?”

Arthur couldn’t say it. He couldn’t say “I want to stay with you” just yet. Instead he pulled Merlin close and finally, _finally_ , their lips met. It had only been an hour or so since they’d last kissed but it was an hour too long.

Arthur wondered if each kiss was always going to be different. This one wasn’t rough like their first, soft like their second, or deep like their third. This was messy and desperate. They clutched at each other, but not painfully. Merlin kissed Arthur’s neck, grazing the previously marked skin with his teeth, but gently instead of hungrily. Arthur cradled Merlin’s face in his hands, but not possessively, more as an attempt to keep their lips locked together.

Then they were tilting over and Merlin’s shirtlessness became all the more apparent. Merlin hovered over Arthur with his elbows placed on each side his head to prop himself up and Arthur let his fingers dance over the smooth, hot skin of Merlin’s back. They kissed for a while, with Merlin on top, until Arthur rolled them over and switched positions.

Just as Merlin’s legs came up to wrap around the body above him and bring their hips closer together, the phone started to ring.

Arthur slowed down. “Shouldn’t you get that?” he asked, his voice muffled from being buried in Merlin’s neck.

“Let him call back later. I’m busy,” Merlin replied breathlessly. He tugged Arthur up by the hair and smashed their lips together again, thrusting his tongue inside to taste Arthur’s sweet mouth. Arthur was a drug all on his own and Merlin was already addicted.

The ringing increased in volume.

Arthur pulled away, much to Merlin’s annoyance. “I think it just got louder.”

“Bastard wants my attention.”

“It must be important.”

“Not as important as this.”

Merlin tightened his legs’ hold around Arthur’s waist and squeezed him closer. They were chest to chest, groin to groin, and neither of them ever wanted to stop.

The ringing somehow got even louder. Then the steel door slid open. Arthur’s first instinct was to jump up and separate himself immediately, but unfortunately, Merlin’s instinct was to freeze, therefore trapping Arthur between him and modesty.

It was Lance. He stood shocked in the doorway, and Arthur saw his club foot for the first time. After a beat, Merlin finally unwrapped his legs from around Arthur and the two separated with deep blushes colouring their cheeks.

Lance recovered quickly. “Answer the damn phone!” he yelled, throwing an arm out.

“Oh right.” Merlin dashed to the box, stepped inside, and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Tell Arthur to turn the cameras back on. Morgana is getting worried,” Kilgharrah said.

“How do you know that?”

“Just do it!”

The line went dead. Merlin couldn’t relay the message to Arthur with Lance present so instead he walked over to where the ring had landed and picked it up, twisting the outside then holding it tight in his fist.

“What did he say?” Lance asked. Arthur was also curious to know.

“He told me to call him later tonight,” Merlin lied quickly.

“Did he say why?”

Merlin shook his head. “Suppose I’ll find out.”

“Well, the real reason I came here was to tell you that Leon wants you to stop by Aredian’s when you go out. Here’s the list.” Lance waved it in his hand.

Merlin went over and took it from him. After a moment he looked up at the mechanic. “What exactly is Leon expecting?”

“Just a precaution. In case someone around Lower Camelot lets our location slip.”

“You mean—”

“Yes.”

Merlin nodded solemnly. It had been a while since Gwaine was in the Knights, before Merlin’s time. The man wasn’t one for holding grudges, but perhaps the right amount of gold would get him to talk. Merlin decided then that he’d pay Gwaine a visit.

“I’ll talk to him,” Merlin said.

“Merlin...”

“We’re practically best friends by now.” Merlin treated Lance to his widest grin.

“I thought you said you didn’t speak to him anymore.”

Merlin mentally cursed and his smile faltered. “I don’t do business with him, obviously. I’m done with all that.”

“Leon saw you smoking when he showed Arthur to your room the other day.”

Merlin sighed in mock frustration. “Well, I’m done with it _now._ I figured Arthur deserved to have a sane, sober roommate. Don’t you think?”

Lance barked out a laugh at the mention of sane. “Right. Okay. I’m sure he also deserves your tongue down his throat.”

Merlin blushed bright red and Arthur coloured as well, shifting on his feet behind him.

“That was just, uh—”

“Don’t worry about it Merlin. I won’t tell anyone. Except Gwen. She totally predicted it.”

“She—what?!”

Lance laughed again and reached into his pocket. What he placed in Merlin’s hand made the scout’s eye go wide.

“Er, thanks but I—I’m not exactly a virgin you know. I’ve got a few,” Merlin said.

“Look closer.”

Merlin did and read that it was vanilla flavoured. The image of Gwen on her knees sucking Lance’s flavoured dick came up in Merlin’s head.

“Oh gods, Lance, that’s disgusting! I did _not_ need that in my mind,” Merlin declared and Lance chuckled. “Ugh, I don’t think I’ll be able to look at Mother the same way again.”

Suddenly Merlin felt Arthur’s presence over his shoulder and heard Arthur make a small choking sound in the back of his throat.

“Thanks but no thanks, Lance. It’s nothing like that. We’re friends at the very least.”

“Ah. I see. Well, the offer still stands should you change your mind.”

“Oh my gods, Lance, just get out of my room already!”

Lance turned, chuckling again, and hobbled out. It was the first time Arthur had seen the man walk—had seen anyone with a club foot walk really—and he watched in fascination.

When he was gone, Merlin walked around Arthur and whispered in his ear from behind.

“I’ve turned the cameras back on and the ring is in my fist, so the microphone won’t pick up what I’m saying to you.” His hot breath ghosted over the nape of Arthur’s neck and Arthur shivered. “Kilgharrah said that Morgana is worried you keep turning them on and off. I suppose that’s partly my fault. Before I do anything else, I have to know: are you with us or against us?”

“I’m with you.” The speed with which he answered surprised him. He’d meant to think more carefully about it, but with Merlin at his back and breathing into his ear like that, he could think of nothing better than to stay. Merlin also had a better chance at surviving if Arthur was there to protect him. And if he really was to lead the Knights, he’d make sure his father was merely imprisoned, not executed. As for Morgana, he was sure she couldn’t be all evil. He’d convince them to set her up within the new government. Hopefully.

Merlin didn’t seem at all surprised by his answer, seemed to expect it almost. “Then we’ll need to talk more. I have a plan. Would you like to hear it?” Merlin placed a wet kiss to Arthur’s neck just below his earlobe and Arthur couldn’t help but moan. He leaned back so Merlin’s body was flush against him and immediately Merlin wrapped an arm around Arthur’s waist. Arthur could feel Merlin’s excitement from their earlier kiss nudging the cleft of his arse.

Taking Arthur’s moan as a yes, Merlin continued. “We’ll go out tonight as usual. When we get back, you’ll make like you’re going to sleep and turn off the cameras. Then we can stay up talking about what needs to be done. And then maybe do more than talk,” he said suggestively.

“I like it when you don’t act mad,” was Arthur’s seemingly random response.

Merlin let out a humourless laugh. “Oh, I’m mad alright. I just hide it well. Now, I’m going to slip this ring back on your thumb and we’ll go on like we always have.”

“Wait.”

Arthur turned around in Merlin’s arms but kept his eyes closed. He felt for Merlin’s face with his hands and when he had a hold of soft warm flesh cupped beneath his fingers Merlin got the idea and they kissed a final time.

With Arthur’s eyes still closed, Merlin put the silver ring on Arthur’s thumb and stepped back. When Arthur opened his eyes, Merlin was grinning like an escaped mental patient.

“Come on then, we’ve got work to do!” He grabbed Arthur’s wrist and pulled him along into the labyrinth of whitewashed corridors.

After picking up their headsets from Elyan and heading out into Lower Camelot—that, Arthur found out, was the official name of the city beneath the city—Merlin went straight to Gwaine and his friends’ usual spot. Merlin sent Arthur to wait for him around the corner, and Arthur went without question. He understood that from now on Merlin would be more careful about what Arthur saw and heard.

“Back already?” Gwaine greeted the scout.

“This isn’t that kind of visit. This has to do with the Knights.” Merlin cut right to the chase.

Gwaine’s eyebrow perked up. His two friends looked away respectfully. “Oh?”

“The Prots have stepped up their game. They have spies everywhere now and we think they’ll try to pay you off for information on us.”

Gwaine nodded. “They already have.”

Merlin’s heart skipped a beat. “When?”

“Couple days ago when you came and bought two G’s. Kid about eight years old came up after you left and asked me if I’d just been talking to the ‘madman.’”

“What did you say?”

“I told him yes. Then he asked me, ‘He’s part of the group that keeps us all safe, right?’ And I said yes again. Then he said, ‘Do you know where he lives? I want to give him something to show my thanks.’ He held out a little coin purse and if the whole asking-where-you-live bit didn’t give him away, that surely did.”

“You didn’t take the money did you?”

Gwaine chuckled lowly. “This is where it gets good. I told him if he gave me half the gold I’d tell him. Then I gave him a fake address.”

The glint in the man’s eyes said Gwaine was holding something back, like he was just waiting for Merlin to ask.

“Where did you send him?”

The other two started snorting in laughter and Merlin couldn’t help but smile a little. It must have been somewhere terrible.

“Over to Freya’s.”

Merlin barked out a laugh and Arthur peeked around the corner. He saw Merlin bent over from laughter and not showing any signs of stopping.

“You sent him to—Oh my gods—Gwaine, that’s—ahahaha, I never would have thought of that!”

The whole group was laughing heartily, even the quieter two, and after Arthur watched a few moments, a boy walked up to Merlin and tugged his sleeve. All were immediately serious again.

“That’s him,” Gwaine said, pointing. “That’s the boy.”

Merlin put on his best smile and crouched to the boy’s level. “What can I do for you, young man?”

“Are you Merlin?” he asked in a shy voice.

“I sure am.”

He held out his hand, in it a bulging coin purse. “This is for you. My dad really likes the Knights and even tried to join once. He couldn’t get in but he still wants to help. He told me to look for you since you’re the easiest to find. So this is like a thank you from him.”

“How thoughtful.”

Merlin took the purse from the boy and emptied it into his palm. The boy turned to leave but Merlin stopped him.

“My friend here told me you were trying to find me a couple days ago. I think you deserve a little something for you trouble.” Merlin was only barely able to hold back the grin.

He counted out the coins carefully, looking at each one thoughtfully before putting it back in the small leather pouch. When only one remained in his hand he looked up into the boy’s bright eyes, then to his wrist.

“What a lovely bracelet you have,” he remarked, lifting the thin wrist gently. He saw it for what it was.

“Thank you. My mum gave it to me.”

“This looks like real silver.”

“It is,” the boy said proudly.

“I wouldn’t wear it around certain places if I were you. Best to keep such valuables hidden away.” He opened the boy’s hand and placed the last coin in the small palm. “Here you are. Take this back to your dad and tell him I appreciate the gift.”

The boy pursed his lips as he eyed the coin in his hand. “It’s alright. My dad wants you to have it all.” He tried to give it back to Merlin. Merlin’s smile tilted until it was more of a smirk, but he took the coin anyway.

He patted the boy on the shoulder and stood. He turned to address Gwaine and the others, still with a hold on the child. He had a sudden idea, and was eager to get _some_ tension out of his body if he couldn’t have Arthur right now.

“I’ll be seeing you next week, Gwaine,” Merlin said and held out his hand. Gwaine shook it and nodded. It was mutually understood that Gwaine could be trusted.

 “Now, what’s your name then?” The scout kept a firm hand around the boy as they walked toward where Arthur watched from the corner.

“W-Will.”

“How interesting! I’ve a friend named Will. Would you like to be my friend too?”

After a moment, the boy nodded. Merlin’s smile stretched to show his teeth. “Excellent. I’d like you to meet another friend of mine. Will, this is Arthur.” They’d reached Arthur and he held out his hand.

“Hello Arthur.”

“Hello Will.” Arthur looked up curiously at Merlin. “Are you allowed to be around children?” he asked only half-jokingly.

“Ha bloody ha,” Merlin retorted. “Come on. We’re taking this boy with us for a bit.”

Arthur’s brow furrowed but he followed silently. Merlin held the boy’s hand tightly the whole time and only let go when they were in an abandoned alley.

The boy looked around in wonder as only children can while Merlin switched on his headset. “Time?” he spoke into the mic.

“Almost eight,” Elyan returned.

“Perfect.”

He clicked his mic off and led Arthur and Will to a shady area near the street. They waited with their backs pressed against the wall, Merlin peeking around the corner every now and then until finally one time Merlin turned he had yanked an officer in a red uniform off the sidewalk.

“Hey—”

Merlin shoved him against a wall and disarmed him while the Prot held his throbbing head. He stomped on his foot, punched him in the stomach, then kneed him in the face when he doubled over in pain. The sound of his nose breaking was audible over his huffs and grunts.

He slumped to the ground and when Merlin turned around to face his two spectators their faces were pale. Will was trembling. Merlin knelt down in front of the child and gave him an eerily kind smile. Even Arthur shuddered at the sight of it.

“This is my way of thanking you,” Merlin said, voice calm. “Your money helps keep me and the Knights alive so we can better protect you from scum like him.”

“Cr-crazy bast...ard,” the beaten Prot groaned from behind him.

Merlin spun around furiously. “Did I say you could talk, you red filth?!” He dug the heel of his foot into the officer’s outstretched hand and twisted, grinding the soft flesh into the stone ground. The Prot’s cries were like music to Merlin’s ears.

He kept at it while he looked over his shoulder and spoke to the boy. “Do you see? Now he suffers just as much as you and I have.” Merlin’s triumphant smile was definitely scaring Arthur now.

“Merlin,” Arthur said firmly, more confident than he thought he could sound when he was frightened so much.

A single look at Arthur’s pale face and Merlin released the Prot. He ran a hand through his hair. He opened the coin purse that the boy had given him and poured the contents onto the uniformed body he’d beaten, then knelt before Will again. He looked straight into the child’s eyes as he said, “Tell your mum and dad what I’ve done. I appreciate their money but I can get it just fine on my own.”

Will nodded then took off running. Merlin stood and watched the boy disappear with a satisfied smile.

“What the fuck was that, Merlin?” Arthur demanded.

Merlin turned around slowly, almost lazily. “I don’t like being fucked with.”

“Okay...”

“That boy was an Infiltrator. Those coins over there?” He jerked a thumb in the Prot’s direction. “Trackers. One of them anyways, near the bottom where I’d spend it last.”

“So you take him to watch you beat an innocent man? That’s—”

“THAT MAN WAS _NOT_ INNOCENT!” Merlin shouted angrily. His sudden outburst of rage was more frightening than his suppressed frustration. “He was a Prot, an _enemy_ , and you’d do well to remember that.”

“Yes, but not all Protectors are bad.” Arthur bit his tongue before he could say anymore.

“And how would you know that?” Merlin hissed, bringing his face into Arthur’s personal space. The tone and look of Merlin sent another chill up his spine. Then Merlin’s lips twitched as he held back a smile and Arthur realised what the scout was doing. Part of this was a test for him, part of it really was Merlin losing his control.

Arthur played along and brought up a valid counter-argument. “People think all the Knights are bad, but really it’s only one of them.”

Merlin’s chuckle was hollow. “Oh, Arthur. This is only your third night. You haven’t _seen_ bad yet.”

The truth of Merlin’s words and the seriousness with which he said them was unnerving. Then the sound of running feet approaching interrupted their conversation.

“You see? I told you that boy was a spy. Brought the reds right to us.”

Merlin nudged Arthur aside and stood with squared shoulders.

“Shouldn’t we be running?” Arthur asked.

Merlin grinned at him over his shoulder. “Nah. I haven’t had a good fight in a while. And this is good training for you. It pays to know how to take out groups.”

“But there’s only two of us!”

“That’s one more than we need.”

“Merlin, that’s—that’s—”

“Insane? Yeah, I know.”

The first red uniform came into sight and Merlin grabbed hold of him with practised ease. More flooded into the narrow alley and Merlin seemed to know where they were at all times. After punching one square in the face he turned and thrust his foot out to kick another in the chest behind him. They tried circling around him but Merlin always took one out and slid through the opening that created to gain the upper hand again.

“Any time you feel like helping!” Merlin yelled out over the commotion. Taking advantage of Merlin’s distraction, one Prot came up behind him and tried to choke him with his rifle.

Just as Arthur was about to run over and hit the back of the Prot’s head, Merlin elbowed the officer in the stomach and slipped out from under his hold, took the gun and shot once into the soft flesh under the man’s chin. He was dead instantly.

Arthur froze. It felt like he’d been hit with a sack of bricks. Had Merlin really...?

He had. And he was still fighting them off mercilessly.

“Arthur!” Merlin yelled again.

Arthur shook his head to clear his thoughts and focus. He jumped into the battle and shoved one of the Protectors into the wall where his head hit the stone and he slid to a limp heap on the ground.

Some of them turned their attention to Arthur then and he felt his stomach drop. They were coming at him with deadly intent, their eyes glistening like a pack of wolves going in for the kill. Didn’t they know who he was? Hadn’t Morgana let the word out about his mission among them? Could they not recognise him?

Arthur mentally cursed. Of course they didn’t. They’d never seen him. The only ones who had were the other trainees and they were up at the tower, no doubt still finishing their training. And Arthur had only been out publicly a handful of times, even then overshadowed by a circle of private guards that kept his father and sister safe.

Arthur set his jaw and charged forward. He had learned how to fend off groups and how to handle rioters, but he’d never put the techniques to use. He’d only read about them and seen instructional videos. Still, what he’d learned seemed to be working.

Merlin finished with his lot and—oh gods, yes, some of them were definitely dead—came over to help Arthur. After a mere minute the four that had circled around him were lying on the ground with broken limbs.

Merlin sat down on one of the corpses with a sharp exhalation. He held his chin and worked his jaw back and forth.

“One of them managed to actually hit me.” Merlin seemed honestly surprised. “Been a while since I took on a group that large.”

Arthur was breathing hard but Merlin, though certainly out of breath, didn’t seem quite as tired as he did.

And he was _sitting on a corpse_ for fuck’s sake.

“You do realise you’re using one as a bench, right?” Arthur asked incredulously.

Merlin looked down, then back up, and shrugged. “Yeah. Can’t a bloke get a moment to catch his breath?”

“Unbelievable. You’re completely mental.”

“My my, Arthur. You sound almost as if you were—dare I say it?—surprised.”

“Shut up. What are we doing next?” Arthur really did not like standing around a bunch of dead bodies. Or ones that groaned and tried to crawl away. It was all rather sickening and he didn’t comprehend how Merlin could stand it.

“ _You’re_ going to go talk to some alley dwellers. I’m going to run a few errands for Leon. Be sure to keep your headset and mic on.” And just like that, Merlin seemed almost sane again.

“Okay. Where should I start?”

“Pick a street. I don’t really care. Tell Elyan the name and he’ll keep track of which ones you went to.” Merlin put his hands on his knees and stood up. “If we do a good job, maybe Mother will bake us biscuits.”

He climbed up a pile of crates, grabbed onto a series of window ledges, then disappeared onto the roof above.

Merlin was two streets away when a car pulled up beside Arthur. Arthur immediately recognised it as one of the models his father used when he wanted to keep a low profile. He turned off the mic that he had only just turned on and walked up to the window.

The door opened and his sister’s voice came from the dim interior. “Get in.”

Arthur hurried into the empty seat and shut the door behind him. The hovercar merged back into the steady flow of traffic.

Arthur met the eyes of Morgana sitting across from him. “If this is about those Prots I beat up—”

“It’s not,” Morgana cut off. She tilted her head slightly. “‘Prots,’ huh? That’s a Knight term.”

“Sorry, just slipped,” Arthur said quickly. “Must be rubbing off on me.”

“Must be. Anyways, no, this isn’t about that. We knew what would happen if you were asked to accompany them on the street. It’s a small sacrifice we were willing to take. No, this is about something much more important.”

Arthur knew Morgana was just waiting for him to ask. “And what’s that?”

“Kilgharrah.”

“The phone man?”

“He’s more than that. Much more. We thought Leon was behind everything, then Gaius when he came into the picture. But the way the Knights talk about Kilgharrah, as if he were a god...it’s troubling to say the least. We take out Kilgharrah, we take out the Knights. For good.”

“So you want me to talk to Merlin about him,” Arthur stated. Morgana’s goal seemed clear.

“Yes. And I want you to focus. Not on Merlin’s lips or his arse, on the _mission_.” Arthur blushed and fidgeted in his seat. Thank goodness he’d changed into a collared shirt. “I’m assuming that’s why the random blackouts on the cams?”

“Er...”

Morgana took on a gentler tone as she switched into sister mode. “Listen, Arthur. I know that practically living in the tower and being subject to such a regimented upbringing hasn’t exactly given you opportunities for relationships, romantic or sexual. But this is not the time for such things, okay? And when it is the time, you could do so much better than someone like Merlin.”

Arthur opened his mouth to speak but Morgana cut him off. “And if you do insist on remaining...intimate with this freak, let me warn you against getting too attached. We might be able to use this situation to our advantage.”

It was obvious what Morgana meant: getting Merlin to trust him, maybe even love him, then turn right around and betray him. Arthur had no intention of doing that.

He put on his best smirk and it worked. “Morgana, come on. It was just a bit of fun. As if I’d really fall for _Merlin_ , of all people. Honestly, I switched the cams off for your benefit, you being my sister and all.”

Morgana’s face broke into her more familiar expression of ridicule and contempt, and Arthur knew he had pulled off the act. “Yes, editing that particular part out was more than a scarring experience for me.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. So Merlin’s a good lay. Big deal. That doesn’t mean I’ll develop any feelings for him. And as far as using him to our advantage, I don’t think it’ll work. I tried, before we left. That’s why I turned the cameras off when I went to talk to him about the cube. I figured I could get him to talk if I...” Arthur shrugged the rest, not wanting to go into details, and Morgana was grateful. “But there’s no cracking him. Leon was right about that. If Merlin wants to keep something a secret then he will.”

Morgana got a look in her eyes then, a look that always preceded something bad. Arthur knew the look well. She had a plan, and Arthur had an inkling of what it was before she said it.

“Not if he’s not in his right mind,” she said ominously.

“It’s Merlin. He’s never in his right mind.” And Arthur had guessed rightly what she had in mind.

“You’ll wait until he’s high again, and you’ll get it out of him then. Nobody’s that tight-lipped.”

“I’ll try. But I can’t guarantee it’ll work. He may not even know where to find the man anyways. Seems like he’s just an occasional informant.”

“There’s no harm in trying.” Morgana glanced out the window and Arthur saw they’d come full circle. They were nearing the spot where they’d picked him up. “You’re doing well, Arthur. You had me freaking out a bit with the blackouts but as long as _that’s_ the only reason for them, by all means, don’t subject me to such torture again.”

Arthur laughed genuinely. How ironic it was that Morgana was now asking him to keep some things private. It was really all too perfect.

“Before I go, there is one thing,” Arthur said as the car slowed to a stop. “Is it true about the nutritionally enhanced food?”

Morgana’s eyes became guarded and her tone serious again. “I’m afraid so. Just one of the many things I was unable to talk Father out of.”

“What other kinds of things are there?”

“Well, for instance, there’s…cutting aid for the elderly and poor and catering to privately owned businesses. I told him more money should be spent creating homes for those living in the alleys and less on researching new technology. That’s what the people need.”

“But those are all completely valid arguments.”

“I know that. You know that. Hell, Uther knows that. But that doesn’t mean he’ll listen. He’s stubborn and he’s doing what he believes is best for Camelot.”

 _But that isn’t what’s best for the people!_ Arthur mentally shouted. Morgana sensed his inner struggle.

“Change will come, Arthur. Kevin and I are doing our best to make Father see the bigger picture.”

“Kevin? Who’s Kevin?”

“Oh, I’ve forgotten. You don’t know him.” Morgana looked at Arthur with something like pity, but not quite. “You’re familiar with the hierarchy of the Protectors, right?”

“Of course. Father controls the government and laws, you run the enforcement, and then there’s all the individual officers.”

“Right. But there’s a second person with equal status as me who’s in charge of intelligence. That’s Kevin Warlow. All the cameras, phone taps, and other such information goes to him. He’s been with Uther since they were both just trainees like you, and have remained friends for as long. But as head of intelligence, his position is top secret. I’m sure you can guess why.”

“If people knew their phones were being tapped there’d be a riot every day.”

“And more besides. Kevin knows all there is to know about everybody. Give him a name and he can pull up their file in a matter of seconds.”

“That’s where you got the files for the Knights,” Arthur realised.

“Precisely.” Morgana glanced out the window again. “This has been great catching up and all, but you really have to get back out there. Keep up the good work, little brother.” She ruffled his hair affectionately and Arthur swatted her hand away. She just laughed.

Arthur was about to open the door but stopped. “About their whole prophecy thing...is it true? About me being the Son and all that?”

Morgana’s smile widened. “Yes. Father doesn’t know about his subjects’ little made-up story, though. I’m not sure what he would do if he did. But don’t worry. We won’t let them kill you.”

“That’s reassuring, I suppose.”

“Goodbye, Arthur.”

Arthur stepped out of the hovercar and it sped off back into the humming city traffic.

Merlin ran his usual errands like before Arthur’s arrival: he went round and bought the ingredients Gwen needed to make her stew (the price of fresh rabbit had gone up since the last time), pickpocketed the occasional unsuspecting passerby, and got various materials Lance or Elyan needed for whatever they were building now. Only this time, in addition to the normal items on the list, Leon had added “ammunition.” That could only mean they were preparing for an attack, literally bringing out the big guns.

The Knights never stole from the citizens of Lower Camelot. Merlin’s pickpocketing of them was usually even frowned upon. They were all about stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, at least until they could take over with a proper government that would stabilise things. So before Merlin could do any shopping, he had to acquire some coin, which was done just as easily as it was the night before.

After he dropped the usual bag of items off just inside the Castle walls to be picked up by Gwen, he ran off to the part of Lower Camelot that disturbed even him.

This area was physically lower than the rest of the underground tunnels and it felt so. The air was thinner, and yet heavier here. People called this section the Tomb and the name fit. Gaunt figures sat lined against the walls, men and women with sunken eyes and skeletal frames. They were the poorest of the poor, shunned from even the lower class wretches.

It was their eyes that haunted Merlin as he ran to the single shop in the Tomb. The Tomb dwellers looked dead. Their eyes should not have been able to follow Merlin with glassy stares.

The shop had no name, was referred to only as “Aredian’s,” after the owner. The reason for its ghastly location was evident the moment one walked in.

Shelves upon shelves were lined with all kind of weaponry, from ancient battleaxes to bayonets to pistols to handheld explosives. That was just the really old stuff. Some things that were made a hundred years ago, like laserblades, were more common.

The Knights didn’t go for all the new tech. Merlin himself preferred an ordinary steel dagger to a laserblade. So the scout knew that by “ammunition,” Leon didn’t mean energy cells or anything like that to fuel laser weapons. He meant the real stuff, the good old-fashioned bullets they could load into the machine gun turrets they placed at each entrance when their threat level was high. Real bullets stayed in the body when shot. Laserfire could penetrate anything, but wasn’t long-lasting.

“About time,” Aredian’s gruff voice greeted Merlin when he walked in.

“You were expecting me?” Merlin approached the counter.

“It’s Dawn.”

Merlin nodded gravely. “Leon didn’t say how much, but.” He took all the gold he had out of his pocket, a purse with four hundred sixteen coins. He’d robbed a bloke coming out of a casino that night and had cashed in without even having to gamble. “He’ll probably want as much as possible. Just give me however much this can buy.”

Aredian whistled. “That’s a lotta metal. You want this delivered?”

Merlin had to think about it. Normally Elyan and Percival would help bring back the inconspicuous boxes of ammo. But they’d never bought this much at one time and now that Arthur had joined, they’d be asking why he couldn’t help as well. Merlin couldn’t tell them it was because Arthur had camera lenses and would be giving away their plans for preparation. It would be better to get it delivered, but that would cost extra gold that Merlin didn’t have, and he didn’t want to sacrifice important ammunition to save himself the trouble of more walking.

He quickly came up with a solution. “Yeah, I do. I’ll come back with the money for transportation in a few hours, before it’s ready.”

“Two o’clock. That’s...” Aredian did the mental math. “Four and a half hours, just about. It’ll cost ya fifty coins.”

“Alright.” Merlin nodded once, firmly, and turned to go. “See you then.”

“Don’t be late.”

Merlin snorted as he approached the automatic door. “I never am.”

He avoided the stares of the Tomb dwellers as he made his way back up to higher levels and waited for a break in the speech coming through his headset for a chance to talk. He’d turned down the volume when he went to speak with Aredian and had now turned it back up. He could hear the voice of a woman telling Arthur about the latest happenings in her neighbourhood.

“...don’t always spit on us, just the younger ones. Older blokes are too good for even that, most people think. And tired, mostly. But the ones fresh out of training, they’re all excited to be out and about cleaning up Camelot, and look at us as if we try to purposely make their jobs harder.” Merlin couldn’t tell if the woman was young or old. It was one of those voices that had the vigour of youth but the bitterness of age.

“Have they done anything recently?” Arthur asked, seeming to be honestly concerned. Maybe he was.

“Hmm. No. One pushed Matthew—that boy over there—and he fell on his house. It was in bad shape anyway but it would have lasted at least another week if not for being squashed by his bony arse. And it’s not as if the Prots haven’t done anything worse than wreck a single boy’s home before. Other than that—and I don’t even really count that, mind you—they’ve mostly left us alone.”

The voice coming through the headset lowered itself to a whisper and Merlin could imagine the alley woman leaning in close to Arthur as if telling him a secret. “I hear they’ve really got it bad over on Buckbinder though. What with there being loads a new officers around, all freshly trained, and what with the way Morgana’s got their patrols all mapped out, Buckbinder gets the worst of it. Most older Prots are content with glaring down at you like you’re the scum o’ the Earth, but the younger ones got to touch and make sure you _feel_ like it.”

There was a static-y silence as Arthur processed the information. Merlin was about to take the opportunity to let Elyan know about the successful ammo purchase when Arthur took a deep breath and replied to the poor woman.

“Things are going to change soon,” Arthur said. “You know Merlin, the Mad Scout?”

“How could I not?”

“I was with him only a couple hours ago. He really gave it to this one Prot. And I’m pretty sure he made that guy feel like the scum of the Earth. If it makes you feel any better.”

Merlin smiled to himself as he made his way through Lower Camelot. Maybe he had lost his temper a bit, but he always made sure to direct it where it could be used for good. The people of Camelot, though a bit frightened of him personally, appreciated what he did for them. He was glad Arthur seemed to see that now.

The lady apparently was one of the few who disagreed. “Hmmph. There are some who would be happy to hear that. But I think it’s fighting fire with fire. It makes us no better than them and only fuels the cycle. It’s not about revenge, and the Mad Scout is often too blinded by hatred and rage to see that. No, go tell it to the poor sods in Buckbinder. They’ll appreciate Merlin’s good intentions much more than me.”

Merlin interrupted before Arthur could ponder too seriously the woman’s words. The last thing he wanted was for Arthur to think he was blinded by hatred or whatever. “Arthur,” he said into his mic.

A hundred metres above, Arthur put his hand to the earpiece, physically indicating to the woman that he was no longer speaking to her. “Yeah, Merlin?” The woman’s eyes widened and she shuffled away, fearing she’d offended the Mad Scout himself.

“Let’s get something to eat.”

There was a brief pause, then, “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

“Think you can find the closest entrance underground?”

“No way.” Merlin could hear Arthur get to his feet and start walking.

“Alright. Where are you?”

“I’m...I’m on Waterloo. Hold on. Yeah, Waterloo and Hartford.”

Merlin started running. “Okay, I’ll be there shortly. Elyan.”

“What’s up?” Elyan replied quickly.

“Aredian’s going to deliver what we need a little after two o'clock. I got just over four hundred gold’s worth. Will that be enough?”

“ _Damn_ , Merlin. Yeah. That’ll be more than enough.” Merlin liked that Elyan sounded impressed. He took pride in his work as scout. “Leon wants you to take a look around the tower when you have the time also. There seems to be an increased amount of activity going on.”

“Got it.”

“And for the love of Camelot, Merlin, don’t kill anyone else tonight. People are going to start thinking we’re mass murderers.”

“They attacked first!”

“That’s not exactly true...” Arthur corrected.

“Shut up, Arthur, you’re not in this!”

“I was there, Merlin.”

“Shut up anyways.”

“I don’t care who did what first, Merlin. You’re twenty, not twelve. I shouldn’t have to babysit you,” Elyan said.

“Fine,” Merlin gave in. “But if one Prot, just _one_ , points their laser rifle at me, I swear bodies are going to start dropping.”

“No need to be dramatic, Merlin.” Arthur wondered how the technician could respond so calmly to Merlin’s declaration when he himself had gone stiff with fear. “If they see you, just disarm them and run away. Don’t draw attention to yourself, especially not that close to the hornet’s nest. It’s a simple reconnaissance job, that’s it.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright. I go up there every morning anyways.” Merlin was above ground now and making his way up to the roof of the nearest building via pipe. Arthur’s location was about a mile away.

It was silent on the comms the rest of Merlin’s way there. He ran quickly instead of leisurely like he normally would in order to reach his destination faster. He didn’t like leaving Arthur alone in the dangerous city for long, even if the bloke was a suitable substitute for Percival.

When he got to the corner of Waterloo and Hartford he spotted Arthur immediately. He was leaning against the wall of the opposite building with his arms crossed over his chest and a bored expression on his face. His eyes watched people walking by on the pavement unblinkingly, as if he wasn’t really there at all.

Then he looked straight up at Merlin.

Merlin’s heart skipped a beat as he met Arthur’s piercing gaze nearly six metres below him. What did he look like, he wondered, perched on the ledge of the roof on his heels? He felt a bit like a frog about to attempt suicide, but he’d been told that when looked at from below he seemed almost angelic. Ghostly.

They stared at each other ten full seconds before Merlin let loose his brightest grin and began to make his way down using the window ledges. When his feet landed on the ground he turned and was face to face with Arthur. He seemed sad and thoughtful.

Merlin muted his mic before he spoke and Arthur followed his example. “We have four hours. What are you in the mood for?”

Arthur licked his lips. The action had been done unthinkingly but it got Merlin’s attention. The scout’s eyes lingered on his lips hungrily before tearing themselves away. Arthur’s newly wet mouth twitched upwards in a small knowing smile.

“I was thinking,” Arthur began, “After we eat we could visit a few more neighbourhoods, check out the tower, then head back to the Castle early?”

Merlin fought back a smile. He could guess why Arthur wanted to go home early from the way he looked at him. The blush that rose to Arthur’s cheeks said he knew Merlin had seen right through him. If only Arthur weren’t wearing camera lenses and their moment alone could really be a moment alone.

“Can’t,” Merlin said, though he yearned to feel Arthur’s body against his again just as badly. His heart beat faster just at the thought of it. “I have some things I have to get done. I probably won’t get back till dawn, but you’re free to head home if you want.”

Merlin started walking and Arthur followed behind loyally. “Can I come with you?” Arthur asked. He tried not to sound too eager.

Merlin shook his head. “Not unless you can run, which you can’t. And I don’t have time to walk with you on street level. It’s better if I do it alone. I’ve always done it alone.” His tone dropped an octave towards the end and Arthur looked sideways at him. Immediately Merlin was smiling again and began walking with a bounce in his step.

After a few minutes walking, Arthur asked, “So where are we going?”

“Freya’s.”

“Never heard of it.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Of course you haven’t.” He was about to say a privileged posh bloke like him would never go to a place like Freya’s, but he caught himself, remembering the cameras. “It’s not very well-known,” he said instead. “And it’s not exactly...respectable.”

Arthur halted. “What do you mean ‘not respectable?’ Is it a strip club or something?”

Merlin barked out a laugh. “What? No! Arthur. Do you really think I would take you to a strip club?”

“I don’t know what you would and wouldn’t do, to be honest. I’ve only known you a few days and you’re completely unpredictable anyways.”

“It’s not that sort of place. Trust me.” Merlin continued walking and Arthur was forced to follow, though he looked at Merlin through narrow eyes.

Six minutes later when they approached a tall, slim building with the name “Freya’s” in neon lights above the entrance, Arthur sighed in exasperation.

“You said it wasn’t a strip club.”

Merlin glanced over his shoulder guiltily. “Okay, well, not the part we’re going to. I’m friends with her. She’s actually quite nice.”

“Who?”

Merlin exhaled loudly. “Freya. Who else do you think?”

Arthur held up his palms in mock defence and they entered. The place was dimly lit and cramped and smelled of alcohol. It wasn’t too crowded, and Arthur couldn’t decide whether to be grateful or not. Merlin led him past topless women wearing barely anything below the waist and into a back room. This area was much more comfortable, not just because Arthur felt awkward around the nude performers.

There was a woman there sitting at a table and looking over some papers. She looked up when Merlin entered and smiled wide when she noticed him. It was the only time Arthur had seen Merlin have that effect on anyone.

“Merlin!” she exclaimed and rushed to hug him. She was a head shorter than him, and older, but Arthur couldn’t tell by how much. Probably only a few years.

“Hullo, Freya.” Merlin gave her an affectionate squeeze before letting go. “How are things?”

“Oh, you know, the same as ever. Just barely managing to get the bills paid what with nobody having the time or gold to afford the luxury of a good show. What about you? You look...good.”

It was a lie. Merlin looked pale, had shadows beneath his otherwise bright eyes, and his clothes hung off his thinning frame. He looked especially unhealthy next to someone as fit as Arthur.

“I feel good. I’ve...Well, never mind about me. This is Arthur.” Merlin gestured to the blond beside him, who waved shyly. “He just joined the Knights, and I’m treating him to dinner.”

Freya raised a suggestive eyebrow. “Oh, you are, are you?”

Merlin giggled. “Not like that. I’m much too busy to be romantic with anyone. You know that.”

Arthur’s blush dictated otherwise, but Freya let it drop. “I do know that. Well, you’re in luck. I have pizza tonight.” Merlin abruptly perked up and Arthur wondered what the big deal was. “I just need to warm it up. I’ll bring it right out, okay?”

“Oh, thank you so much, Freya!” Merlin picked the small woman up by the waist and spun her around. She laughed a bit like a young girl and struggled half-heartedly to get out of Merlin’s grasp.

“Enough, Merlin! Haha, _Mer_ lin, put me _down_!” Merlin finally did and gave her cheek a wet kiss before letting her go completely.

“What do you want, Freya? Just name it, and I’ll get it. Anything you want,” Merlin said.

Freya looked uncertain at first. “Well, there is one thing...”

“Out with it, Frey.”

“There’s a man that comes by about twice a week. He’s gotten rough with some of the girls a few times,” Freya said hesitantly.

“He’s as good as dead.”

Freya’s eyes widened in panic. “Oh, no no no, nothing so extreme. Just, I don’t know, break his nose or something? I want to scare him, not kill him.”

“I understand.” Merlin nodded once. “Is he here now?”

“No. He usually comes in on Thursdays and Sundays.”

“Consider it done.” Merlin bent over and kissed Freya’s calloused fingers. She laughed giddily again and Arthur struggled not to roll his eyes.

“I’ll be back with your food in a moment. Make yourselves comfortable,” she told them.

They sat down at the table Freya had previously occupied and Arthur fixed Merlin with a curious stare.

“What?” Merlin asked after a few minutes of pretending not to notice.

Arthur looked away. “Nothing. You’re just full of surprises, that’s all.”

Freya came out with their pizza then—two steaming slices apiece—and Merlin started bouncing in his seat like an excited child.

“Wow, this isn’t even the fake kind,” Merlin said appreciatively as the food was laid on the table before them.

“There’s a fake kind?” Arthur raised a confused brow. “Oh, you mean the nutritionally enhanced kind?”

Merlin nodded once and dug into the hot meal hungrily. He paid no attention to way the heat licked the skin of his fingers. It had been a long time since he’d had real pizza.

“Slow down, Merlin, or you’ll choke,” Freya warned. Merlin followed her advice and put the slice down on his plate to chew what he already had in his mouth. Arthur laughed at how utterly childish Merlin was, yet again. He took a bite of his own piece cautiously. It was good.

“Where’d you get this?” Merlin asked. Arthur wondered the same.

“I made it,” she confessed. Merlin gaped.

“Whoa, Frey! That’s—where did you get—You’re amazing.”

Arthur frowned as he took another bite viciously and burned his tongue as a result. _He_ could be amazing too.

Freya coloured prettily and waved it off. “I didn’t get the dough quite right. I messed up with the yeast a bit. But I’m glad you like it. This is the last of it and I can’t think of anyone more worthy.”

It was Arthur’s turn to roll his eyes. Seriously? This Freya woman was nice but he was beginning to like her less and less.

Merlin, however, beamed with pride. “If only the others saw it that way. I’m just a nuisance to them. A useful nuisance,” he appended. “But still a nuisance. Percival’s the worst.”

“Oh, they’re all horrible,” Freya agreed, smiling. “I don’t know how Gwen puts up with you all, especially cooped up underground like that. I’d go ma—” She stopped herself. “I can’t handle situations like that.”

She turned to Arthur, who had begun working on his second piece. “How are you finding life with the Knights?” she asked.

Arthur shrugged and swallowed his mouthful. “It’s alright so far. A little different from what I expected but nothing too overwhelming. Having to work with Merlin is...interesting to say the least.”

Freya nodded. “That’s Merlin in a word. Interesting.”

Merlin positively glowed then. “Better to be interesting than a stick in the mud like everyone else.”

Freya looked at him with a strange hint of motherly affection. “I suppose that’s one way of looking at it.”

The scout suddenly consulted his watch. “Shit. We’ve got to get going, Frey,” he said. “Thanks so much for the pizza. It was a real treat.” He jumped out of his seat and placed a quick kiss on Freya’s cheek before disappearing back into the dark front area. Arthur shoved the rest of the pizza crust in his mouth and rose to try to keep up.

“It was nice meeting you,” he threw over his shoulder as he hurried after Merlin.

Merlin was tapping his foot on the pavement in front of the building. “Where to now?” Arthur asked.

“I’ve got to make fifty gold before two,” Merlin replied simply.

“Okay...”

“So you’re going to make it for me.” Merlin grinned mischievously.

“Ah. Another lesson in pickpocketing, then.”

“Yep. Hopefully this time will go better than the last.”

The last time had been the night before, after Arthur had beat Merlin in a fight and they went out to train before heading back to the Castle. After losing, Merlin had been eager to show that he was better than Arthur at _something_ , and proceeded to laugh at him every time Arthur made a fool of himself trying to pick someone’s pocket.

Mostly it had been ordinary blokes walking on the street, sometimes middle-aged women with low-hanging bags. Nearly every time they spotted Arthur just as he was removing a coin purse or something of value, and knocked him on the head before threatening to call the Protectors. Twice someone actually did and Merlin gave an impromptu lesson on outrunning and then hiding from them.

“I’m telling you, I’ve got the hang of it now,” Arthur said, following Merlin as they headed toward a more crowded area of the city.

“We’ll see.”

After a moment of walking, Arthur asked, “So what’s the deal with Freya?”

Merlin laughed incongruously loud and got several stares from people they passed. “What do you mean ‘what’s the deal with Freya?’” Merlin gave Arthur a look that implied Arthur’s jealousy and Arthur pouted defiantly.

“I mean how long have you been friends? And just how did you end up befriending the owner of a strip club in the first place?”

Merlin’s smile let on his real thoughts, that of _course_ that’s what Arthur meant. “Before I joined the Knights I was homeless. Freya helped me out a bit.”

“How?”

“She let me stay with her one winter. Fed me and all that. She was very generous to me.” Merlin cast his eyes down and he looked far away for a moment. “I wasn’t nearly as strong then as I am now. Just a kid, really. I could run over rooftops for hours on end just fine, but defend myself? No way. When I joined the Knights and learned to fight I’d take care of things for her. Things like the bloke she wants me to take care of now. I owe it to her after all. If not for her, I don’t know where I’d be.”

Arthur swallowed and tore his eyes from Merlin. He’d never get used to how quickly Merlin could switch between playful one moment and sombre the next. Maybe a part of Merlin really _was_ damaged.

Merlin raised his head and put on another huge grin. “Anyway, Freya’s like a sister to me. I like to check up on her every now and then, see how she gets on.”

“Beg for food, you mean,” Arthur joked, glad to have Merlin back to normal. What was normal for him anyway.

Merlin shrugged. “Food is just part of it. A very, very good part.”

“Right. So she’s never asked you to work for her?”

“Work for her? Oh my gods, do you mean...” Merlin erupted into a fit of laughter and Arthur turned bright red. Merlin had to wipe tears from his eyes. “Wow, Arthur, just...wow. I didn’t realise you had such a filthy mind.”

Arthur punched Merlin’s shoulder. “Shut up! What was I supposed to think?”

“Of me taking my clothes off apparently,” Merlin chuckled. He lifted the bottom of his shirt to reveal his naval and wiggled his hips seductively. “Ooh, look at me, I’m a stripper,” he said in falsetto through barely controlled laughter.

Arthur blushed even more at the flash of pale flesh and hip movement. He tried to disguise the flare of arousal by rolling his eyes. “Stop being ridiculous. You’d make a shit dancer. And put your shirt down, people are staring.”

Merlin stuck out his tongue but complied. “People always stare. It’s _me_ , you know.”

Arthur looked to the sky in a dramatic display of “What have I done to deserve this?” and Merlin laughed again. “Are we almost there yet?” Arthur asked. “There are plenty of people here.” He gestured to the crowded pavement they walked on.

“Yeah, this’ll do. Watch this.”

Merlin made a show of “accidentally” bumping into a pretty young woman. “Oh, miss, I am _so_ sorry!” he said with feigned horror. Arthur noted one hand slipping into her bag and the other placed on her shoulder in a friendly manner. Amongst the fast-moving crowd, nobody else, not even the woman herself, noticed.

“Oh no, no, excuse me,” she replied, looking at Merlin with too much fondness for Arthur’s liking. “I should really pay more attention to my surroundings.”

Usually that would have been the end of the conversation, but Merlin was in a mood for showing off, and could tell that this girl found him attractive right off the bat.

“Are you alright? You look a bit stressed,” Merlin asked, looking concerned.

The woman smiled brightly, like Merlin had just made her night, then nodded solemnly. “I am, actually. My mother’s in hospital with cancer and the doctors have just asked me if they can conduct tests on her, she being too weak to answer for herself.”

“Ah, I’ve heard about that. They’re doubling their efforts to find a cure, isn’t that right?”

The woman nodded gravely. “Yes. Uther’s spent a lot of money in research and my mother’s bills will put me in debt if I don’t agree to let them have her. But she’s my _mother_ , you see? I can’t just let them take her.”

Arthur had snuck behind her while Merlin had her attention, and slipped a hand into her bag. Merlin looked deep into her eyes, keeping her engaged, and gave her a sympathetic expression.

“What kind of cancer is it?”

“Lung cancer.”

Merlin inhaled sharply just as Arthur successfully grabbed a bulging leather pouch. “She must be terribly far along if she’s already too weak to speak.”

“She was diagnosed too late, they say.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m on my way to the jewellery shop now. I’ve gathered some of my old things and I’m hoping they’ll sell for enough to give my mother another few weeks. I just can’t bear the thought of losing her yet.”

Arthur looked down at the small pouch in his hand, up at the back of the woman’s head, then flickered his gaze to Merlin. Merlin nodded both to Arthur and the woman.

“Well, don’t let me keep you a minute longer. Go, save your mother from Uther’s minions!” Merlin nudged her gently in the right direction.

“Oh, you’re so kind! If only there were more young men like you,” she exclaimed in a last attempt at flirtation. “What’s your name?”

Merlin’s smile twisted and his eyes sparkled deviously. “Merlin. What’s yours?”

Her eyes widened in horror and she stumbled backward into the crowd. She bumped into a passing man, who grunted “Watch it,” at her. When Merlin stuck out a hand to help steady her she shrunk back and turned to flee as quickly as possible.

Merlin just laughed, but Arthur watched the exchange with a furrowed brow. “You think I should have lied about my name?” Merlin asked, taking the pouch from Arthur and searching through the contents.

“I think we shouldn’t have stolen from her in the first place. What’s going to happen to her mother now?”

Merlin glanced up and gave Arthur a look that said, “Not here.” He led them to the nearest alley. The part of Camelot they were in now was so affluent that it wasn’t crawling with homeless.

“Her mother’s going to die anyway. You heard her: lung cancer. Even if she did manage to hold out a few more weeks, the doctors would have made up an excuse to take her. That’s just how it is.”

“That doesn’t make it right to—”

“Arthur.” Merlin looked up sharply, and the face he gave Arthur was frightening, a maddening blue fire in his eyes. “People die every day. Most of them don’t have the luxury of doing so in a nice comfortable hospital. People die on the streets, in the alleys, among strangers that don’t even know they’re dead until someone accidentally steps on them. Don’t try to tell me what is and isn’t right when you haven’t seen what I’ve seen.”

“I wasn’t trying to lecture you or anything,” Arthur said nervously. “I just...I don’t know...”

“Think of it this way: when those greedy docs finally do take her away, she might, _might_ just bring them one step closer to the wretched cure they’re so desperate for. Odds are she’ll die for nothing like all the rest have, but better to sacrifice the few to save many, right?”

“Um.”

Merlin shoved the sack of stolen jewellery to Arthur’s chest. “Here. If you’re so bloody upset about it, go find her and give it to her yourself.”

Arthur saw it for the challenge it was. He’d told Merlin that he was on their side; this was another opportunity to prove it.

Merlin was right, though. More and more Arthur was seeing that Merlin often was. People would continue dying like they always did no matter what path Arthur chose. Arthur could decide to let that person be a privileged woman with cancer or a down-on-his-luck homeless man. One of them had a chance, and the other would go no matter what Arthur chose.

“Fine,” Arthur said firmly. “We’ll keep it. But we can’t go to the same shop she’s going to to cash in.”

Merlin was ecstatic at Arthur’s choice. “Course not. We’re going underground. The people of Lower Camelot need this more than we do.”

After selling their goods and making a nice five hundred gold, Merlin gave Arthur all but fifty of it and told him to head back to the Castle.

“Give the coin to Mother to put in with the rest of the savings. I’ll be back shortly after sunrise.”

“Sunrise?” Arthur repeated, confused.

“Things to see, people to do,” Merlin sing-songed. Arthur rolled his eyes, but realised it was the only answer he’d get out of the Mad Scout.

“See you then, I guess.”

They went their separate ways, Merlin heading in the direction of one of his few private underground areas. Deep within the Castle, farthest away from the small section the Knights inhabited, was a mossy cave with a little pool. Merlin had placed a ring of candles around it and the place glowed pleasantly.

Merlin lit all the candles simultaneously with a wave of his hand and hummed as he undressed, making sure to mute his mic before taking the headset off and setting it next to his clothes. He slipped into the cool water until it was up to his waist then rubbed his hands together over the surface. Within seconds, it was a nice soothing temperature.

Merlin sighed contentedly and floated on his back for a while, letting the golden mist rise from his pores as his magic cleansed his system. It had been a long time since he’d come down here. But after the heroin, Merlin had felt more off than usual and it didn’t help that people kept commenting on his appearance.

 

Each breath came more easily than the last as Merlin’s lungs cleared. When he opened his eyes he seemed to be looking through clear crystal. He noticed tiny cracks in the rock ceiling. The golden glow of the candles and the mist danced in the cave.

Merlin let himself float for half an hour, though it took only half that time for his body to heal itself internally. He spent another half hour doing press-ups, curl-ups, splits, lunges, and other exercises he felt best done after cleaning himself out. His body felt _good_ and by the end of it his skin was dry enough for him to put his clothes back on without ruining them.

He had an hour left until two o’clock so he decided to drop off the fifty gold to Aredian before it got too late. He sprinted to the Tomb, loving the feel of his lungs and heart pumping with fresh vigour, and made it to Aredian’s shop in just seven short minutes. Even the ominous gazes of the Tomb dwellers couldn’t dampen his mood.

“Whoa,” was Aredian’s informal greeting when Merlin walked in. “What happened to you? Your cheeks are red as roses.”

Merlin chuckled breathlessly. “Thanks, Aredian, but you’re a bit too old for me. Just had a bit of a run is all. I always feel better after a run.”

“Uh huh.”

“Anyways, here’s the coin I promised you. You know where to deliver it, right?” Merlin set the gold on the counter.

“Yeah.”

“Percival and Elyan should be there to help in case. See you soon, Aredian.”

Aredian nodded a goodbye and Merlin headed out. He went up the nearest exit above ground and took a big breath of city air with his newly cleaned lungs. He had until sunrise to have fun with his fresh body, interrupted only by a short recon mission over by the Prot tower. Which he visited every dawn anyways.

After handing the looted coin over to Gwen—Arthur thought he would never get in the habit of calling her Mother, even if he did intend to fully join the Knights—he settled down in his shared chambers to read more of _The Dice Man_.

But eventually even that wasn’t enough to distract him from thinking of Merlin. What was he out there doing? Some of it was Knight business obviously, Elyan’s relayed directions from Leon had made that clear, but surely that wasn’t all it could be. It was Merlin after all.

Arthur began to pace. After too many laps around the room, he climbed up onto one of Merlin’s platforms. Despite its appearance, it was sturdy. Arthur tried climbing up to the next one but he couldn’t pull himself up, nor could he jump high enough. He marvelled again at Merlin’s skill.

He was so _bored_. At 4:34 he couldn’t take it anymore, and jumped down to look for something to do. In the kitchen he tore off a small chunk of bread, then went out in search of someone to bother.

As Arthur passed the Knights’ individual rooms, he heard loud breathing coming from his right. He pressed the button to open the door and stepped inside.

It was Percival’s room. He was pounding his fists into a punching bag that looked like it had seen better times, and was sweating heavily.

Percival turned at the sound of the door opening and he stopped in his workout to smile at Arthur. “Hey,” he said. “What’s up?”

Arthur looked around the room before replying. Perce’s room was simple: bed, dressers, weights, punching bag, and of course more weights.

“Bored,” Arthur said truthfully.

“Good without Merlin, innit?” Percival joked. He waved Arthur over. “C’mere. Let’s see how well you throw a punch.”

Arthur walked forward with a smirk. “I beat Merlin when we trained yesterday,” Arthur declared.

Percival snorted. “No you didn’t.”

Arthur raised a questioning eyebrow. “Yes, I did.”

“No, you didn’t,” Perce said, shaking his head.

“Okay, what are you talking about?”

“Merlin let you win.”

Arthur barked out a single laugh. “You honestly believe _he_ could beat _me_? I may be new, but I know how to defend myself.” Just the idea that Merlin, though obviously strong, could take _him_ , was laughable.

“You may have trained to be a ninja assassin for all I care, but nobody can beat Merlin. Just trust me on this.”

“But I pinned him!”

Perce shrugged. “He let you pin him then. Merlin can get out of a situation like that easy. Somehow, some way, he’s just undefeatable.”

“Have you ever beat him?” Arthur asked.

“Of course,” the big man answered with a throaty chuckle. “He didn’t start out with such skills. He had to learn just like you. But there came a day when he surpassed even me and I haven’t been able to beat him since. Granted, he relies on speed whereas I’m more of a strength guy. But he’s not weak. And he’s merciless. That’s why I say he let you win. Though why, I’ve no idea.”

Arthur frowned. He’d been so proud of himself too. It was worse that Merlin had let him gloat, all the while laughing at Arthur’s foolishness.

He squared his shoulders and a determined gleam sparked in his eyes. “I’m going to beat him then, for real. And you’re going to teach me how.”

A large, heavy hand came down on Arthur’s shoulder as Perce smiled. “That’s the spirit. Now go ahead and throw some punches. Don’t hold anything back.”


	6. Merlin, Before and After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into the abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.” - Friedrich Nietzsche

Spending so much time climbing trees paid off. Merlin had good upper body strength and could run pretty fast as well. He’d spent years running between school, the forest, and his house. So the first time he was nearly kicked to death for sleeping on the pavement—he was much too scared to sleep among the other dirty people in the alley—he’d easily scaled the side of a building and found a broken air conditioning unit he could hide out in.

Merlin was already good at pickpocketing and blending into crowds. He picked enough to get by and maintain his drug use, even buy a new pair of trainers. He spent most days running over the rooftops of the dilapidated tower blocks, watching their meaningless lives crawl through time from above. He saw a single mother’s struggle to raise her baby; a girl with an alcoholic mother that brought back a different middle-aged man to fuck each night; boys that rummaged through breakers’ yards for parts to fix up a hoverboard.

Merlin liked watching these communities. He enjoyed watching people. When he grew stronger, could jump farther distances between buildings, could haul himself over edges with ease, and he knew the layout of the city like the back of his hand, he would dare to free run while high. Some days Merlin would spend a whole day sitting on the edge of a building, looking down at the people and smoking.

Four months passed this way, then winter blew into Camelot in full force. The thin walls of his small, broken air conditioning unit wouldn’t keep him warm. It would be shelter from the wind and elements, but it was metal, and no matter how many blankets Merlin bundled up in, he could still feel the hard frost beneath him.

During the day, he began to look for a new place to stay. Four months in the city had hardened him. Not only was he stronger, but he was tougher. He’d learned, as everyone did, that the last thing the Prots did was protect. They were just school bullies that had grown up and were given a badge, no better than the kids that had tormented Merlin all through his childhood. They were people that took their job way too seriously. They were the law-breaking enforcers of law and belligerent upholders of peace.

Merlin had gotten into more than one altercation with the police force of Camelot. He’d spent nights in the youth prison, defended his virginity, and done enough press- and pull-ups to be able to do more than make empty threats. Combined with his magic, which he could channel into various body parts at will like he had when punching trees, Merlin was a force to be reckoned with. So he was much more confident when walking by the alley neighbourhoods than he was when he first arrived in Camelot.

That winter was when he first met Will. Will was two months older and already sixteen. He had lived with his brother until the Prots came and took him away for being a suspected terrorist, leaving Will alone and the flat repossessed by the government. Merlin started at that, never having heard anything about terrorists in the city before.

“You must be new here,” Will said, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’ve really never heard of the group called the Knights?”

“Nope, never,” Merlin replied. “I spend most of my time up there.” He pointed upwards and saw the need to clarify at Will’s expression. “On the roof.”

Will looked at Merlin like he was mad. “Right. Well, the Knights are this super elite group that are against our current government. They’re like modern day Robin Hoods, stealing from the rich and giving to the poor and all. If you believe what some of the older people around here say...” Will looked around nervously, checking for Prots. He leaned in close and lowered his voice to a whisper. “They’re anarchists. Revolutionaries. They’re going to overthrow Uther’s tyranny and lead us properly.”

“Whoa.”

“Yeah.”

To Merlin it sounded like heaven. All his life—the short (almost) sixteen years of it—he’d been laughed at, pushed around, made to feel like scum. As far as he could see, the so-called “Protectors” here were just bigger and badder versions of the guys who picked on him at school, only they were bullying an entire population. Here was a group of people, outcasts like him, that were doing something about it. Here were people that were fighting back, who were going to take control of their lives and give the weak a chance to survive.

It sounded like something Merlin could get into.

“Where do I find them?” Merlin asked his new mate.

“You don’t. They find you.”

Merlin frowned, then his lips twitched as he had an idea. “I’ll find them.” He planned to use magic to scour the city. He’d perfected his cloning ability only recently.

Will shrugged. “You can try. Now, are you here for blow, crystal, or the sweet herb?”

After smoking just enough crystal with Will to get buzzed—well, not _with_ Will. Will dealt, he didn’t do—Merlin wandered around town, glassy-eyed and incoherent. It was near dinner time and people that had just gotten off work were scampering to get back to their families and warmth. Merlin’s thin jacket didn’t do much for him and he began to shiver in the harsh cold air. He was jostled like a ragdoll as people bumped past him in their hurry.

At first Merlin was angry at them, though he was too high to care much. Then, as the first snowflake hit his flushed cheek, he began to pity them. They lived for television shows and learning new recipes to impress their in-laws, for sport and the latest electronic noise they called music. They lived for making sure their children had the best toys at Christmas, or they would never hear the end of it all year long. Heaven forbid Timothy get the wrong model robot dog, or Annabel get a doll when she was clearly grown up enough to start wearing makeup now.

None of the people on the street were really living. Merlin was living. Merlin was flying above them all, swaying back and forth in the tide of dead people on a snowy winter night, with no home, no family, and no prospect of a hot meal in the near future. The way Merlin figured, if one wasn’t surviving, one wasn’t truly living.

Somehow the tide washed him up in front of Freya’s. One minute he was letting himself be pushed along by the crowd of bodies and the next he was sitting up against the wall of a strip club. He wasn’t sure how long he sat out there. He measured time by how many toes and fingers he could feel. When nearly all his toes were numb, and forming a fist had become more and more difficult, a short, pretty woman with long brown hair came out and wrapped Merlin in a warm quilt. She helped him to his feet and led him inside, then down a flight of stairs to a small room with an inviting bed.

Merlin was too numb to speak. He let himself be guided into the dark place, and finally, into the warm bed. It wasn’t the most comfortable one he’d slept in—his bed in Ealdor had been much softer—but it was better than anything he’d slept on in the last four months.

When he woke up hours later, he was alone and it was dark. He didn’t mind the darkness, had never liked opening his eyes to a flood of light. But he didn’t know where he was, and that was a bit disconcerting.

His toes felt like they were on fire and were uncomfortably wet. He wiggled them and pulled back the duvet to get at them. His hands felt a thick layer of cotton, and he realised the woman must have put about a thousand pairs of socks on his feet. Now they were sweating like crazy.

Merlin began taking them off. When his feet were finally free to breathe, it felt much better. He stood carefully, and walked around to get the blood flowing in them again. His eyes had adjusted to the dim light and he could just barely make out what objects to avoid knocking into.

Then a rectangle of light momentarily blinded him as a door opened. The woman walked in, flicked on a switch, and Merlin saw she had a tray of food. It was soup, and it was all vegetables, no meat, but it was hot and delicious all the same.

When Merlin finished eating, he told her—Freya, as he found out her name was—all about the past four months of his life. She was nice, nicer than Will, and he felt he could tell her more than he could the poor boy that lived in a box.

Freya nodded solemnly when he recalled how he was treated his first night in the city. The Prots were known to be brutal and it was unfortunate that nobody was exempt, not even fifteen-year-old boys as cute as Merlin.

Merlin blushed at being called cute and abruptly told her that he was gay. She smiled amiably and said, “Good. The last thing I need is a problem between you and my dancers.”

Which is when Merlin learned he’d spent the past two nights in a strip club and he nearly choked on his soup.

When he told Freya that he was trying to join the group called the Knights, her expression darkened and she grew serious. “I think you’re a bit too young to go getting involved in politics,” she said.

“But I wanna help them. I can do it. I’m special.”

“Just because your mum says you’re special, doesn’t mean you are,” she replied jokingly.

Merlin sneered. “Oh, fuck off.” He waved off her laughter. “I can...get things done. I’m smart and resourceful, and—”

“Stoned out of your mind and nearly frostbitten when I picked you up,” Freya mentioned.

“That’s beside the point. Will you help me find them?”

Freya gave him the pitying look that only the more experienced can give to the blissfully ignorant youth, and put a caring hand on his shoulder. “I have an idea of where to start. But I want you to stay the winter here and _then_ go looking for adventure.”

When the first shops began selling spring clothing, Merlin pressed Freya to take him to Lower Camelot, where she’d said the Knights were more easily located. After a week of constant badgering, she gave in and they went to the nearest hidden entrance.

“Supposedly,” she commented as they descended the brick stairs, “the Prots don’t know about Lower Camelot. I think they just don’t want to bother with it, and want to keep the poor in their place. Uther must surely know of it though. He knows everything. Or the people that work for him do.”

“How long has this place been here?” Merlin asked, gaping at the first tunnel dweller they passed.

“For as long as the Protector system has been in place, as far as I know. When Camelot grew overpopulated, people retreated underground. They were lucky that the Tube wasn’t destroyed when all the transportation went airborne, and was instead left to crumble into ruin. It’s helped a considerable lot in building an infrastructure down here.”

“Wow.” Merlin knew all about the Underground and how common it was a thousand years ago—hell, a mere six hundred years ago. He’d read a lot of books back in Ealdor and visited the library sometimes during those first few months in Camelot. Though nowadays he looked too dirty and poor to even get a good ten-second perusal through the archives.

Freya took Merlin to an alcove that Merlin would have missed if he wasn’t looking for it. Three men huddled around a fire, and the flame danced before their eyes, making them seem like supernatural beings.

“Hullo, Gwaine,” Freya said.

The one closest to them perked up. “Frey! It’s been a while!” He stood and his hunched shape shed so that he looked a simple man with a scruffy beard. “C’mere, then.”

They hugged and Gwaine kept Freya trapped inside his arms. “ _Gwaine_ ,” Freya complained good-naturedly.

Gwaine let go and stepped back. The other two figures behind him waved at the bright woman as well but didn’t get up to greet her like Gwaine had. Finally, Gwaine’s eye came to rest on Merlin.

“Who’s this twig of a thing, then?”

Freya put an arm around Merlin’s thin shoulders. “This is my good friend Merlin. He’s come to ask something of you.” She nudged him forward. “Go on then, Mer.”

Inside, Merlin’s heart was racing and he only just barely managed to keep his hands from trembling. Externally though, he spread his lips in a wide smile, squared his shoulders, and declared, “I want to join the Knights.”

Needless to say, all three of the shadowy men burst into hysterics. “ _You_?” Gwaine asked, incredulous. “You want to be a Knight? How old are you, twelve?”

“Sixteen, nearly,” Merlin replied, lowering his voice a pitch. He knew he didn’t look twelve. He had the beginnings of facial hair and he may have been thin, but he had muscles. Anyone could tell that by looking at him.

“Alright, say the Knights _did_ take an interest in you. What does someone like you have to offer?”

“I can fight.”

“So can they.”

“I can steal things.”

“They’re professional thieves.”

Merlin struggled to find anything worth mentioning that wasn’t magical. “I can...” It came to him then. “I can run. I run on top of the city all the time. I can see everything from up there. I watch people. I know things.”

Gwaine stroked his chin contemplatively. “Hmm.” He sat down again and looked Merlin up and down critically. “Hmm,” he repeated.

Merlin began to doubt whether this guy was serious or not. He looked like just another bum in the alley neighbourhoods, but worse because he wasn’t even worth bumming around up there. “Are you sure about this guy?” he asked Freya in a whisper.

“Trust me, Merlin. If anyone will know where the Knights are, it’s him,” she responded.

“Why’s that?”

“Because I used to be one,” Gwaine cut in. “Now, do you want to know where they are or not?”

Merlin nodded vigorously. “Yeah.”

“Well, I’m not going to tell you.” Merlin deflated. “But I’ll tell them where to find you. They’ve been looking for someone to run errands for them and sneak about, gathering information. You’ve got youth and deception on your side. Nobody will suspect you for a terrorist. And you’re a good liar, I can tell.” Gwaine leaned in closer and looked deep into Merlin’s eyes. “You look like a boy with secrets. Yes, I think, given some training, you’ll make the best Knight of all.”

It was a compliment that Merlin would do his best to live up to. When the squire came round to Freya’s and took him to the funeral parlour, Merlin’s first decision that day was to change himself almost completely. He wouldn’t be the shy, utterly depressed and alone, Ealdor freak. He would be the cheeky, overconfident, loud, and in-your-face scout. A small town little gay boy couldn’t be the best Knight of all. No, Merlin’s persona—the Mad Scout as he would later come to be called—would be the wild, unpredictable, strong, and decisive hero that Camelot needed.

At least that’s what Merlin told himself those first few months. The other Knights took to him immediately, especially Mother. They liked the playful atmosphere Merlin brought to the Castle. Perhaps a sixteen-year-old boy was just what they needed after all. Merlin was great at his job, was a natural at learning, and showed spectacular promise when it came to fighting. His quick footwork and skillfully aimed attacks allowed him to quickly surpass Percival. He annoyed Elyan until the technician taught him to shoot. And Lance was nice enough to put up bars and platforms around the Castle so it was set up like an acrobatic playground. Leon and Gaius didn’t like that he got high a lot, but Merlin was good about not letting it affect the others. Merlin loved his new life.

Then there came the night of what would be known as the July Riot. As scout, part of Merlin’s job consisted of going around Camelot every so often and sparking flares of hatred towards the government. The goal was to keep the city in a constant state of turmoil that eventually led to revolution. A riot or a flash mob every now and then was considered a good dose of medicine for the sick population.

However, over the years, Uther had grown wise. There were special precautions in place for just this sort of thing. Merlin didn’t know that. The Knights didn’t know that. Nobody knew. So when the Prots started firing warning shots into the sky, the people panicked and thought they had fired on the crowd. They surged forward with increased vigour, most armed with makeshift weapons of their own, and things turned bloody.

Merlin had been forced to use some of his magic. Luckily, nobody noticed among all the chaos, but at the end of it all, it wasn’t his magic that got the Knights’ attention.

Merlin had never taken a human life before, but he killed a total of twenty-seven people that night, and maimed dozens more. When the Prots had finally retreated and the battle was won, the Knights who were physically able to fight—Elyan, Percival, and Leon—found Merlin in the middle of the street stomping on something over and over again. Percival edged closer and saw it was the busted open skull of a young Protector. Merlin’s shoes were caked in blood and his calves had bits of brain on them where the impact had made the organ splatter out. Still, he stomped his foot again and again into the place that used to be the Prot’s head. The crunch of bone was sickening.

When Merlin finally grew tired, he realised with horror what he’d done. The sight of himself covered in this other person made him feel rotten. He looked up at the shocked faces of his fellow Knights, then back down at the mess he’d made. What could he say, that he’d lost his temper? That he’d got caught up in the moment and maybe took it a little too far? He wasn’t sure about what happened himself, only that one minute he was being attacked and called a fucking freak and the next he was beating this guy’s face in with the bottom of his shoe.

So he did what his new persona was expected to do. He plastered a big grin on his face and said, “Let’s do that again!”

He was seventeen.


	7. Day, Continued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Nobody realises that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal.” - Albert Camus

“MY NAME IS MERLIN EMRYS. YOUR LIFE IS A MEANINGLESS WINK OF EXISTENCE. NOW WAKE UP AND GO ABOUT YOUR MISERABLE DAY, YOU PATHETIC MOTHERFUCKERS!”

His voice echoed off the buildings, floated down through the alleys, and carried to the streets below. A warning shot from a laser rifle whizzed past his ear and he gave the watching sniper the two finger salute before making his way down.

The increased activity around the tower was because of Mordred. Morgana had decided to have him executed as an example. Uther made an appearance as well, delivering a brief speech on the consequences of insubordination and suspected espionage. The ordinary street Protectors had no knowledge of the secret section of Infiltrators.

They weren’t keen on having their dawn ceremony interrupted, so Morgana had extra sentries posted to try discouraging Merlin from making his daily shoutout. But Merlin slipped past them anyway.

“Mordred’s being executed in the square,” Merlin said into his mic. “Morgana’s gathered a crowd to make an example of him.”

“Shame,” Elyan sighed. “He was loyal, right to the very end. This will be good for us though. He’ll die a martyr.”

Merlin agreed. Mordred had been one of them. He rose from a simple Lower Camelot boy to Protector for the sake of the cause. The people would be incensed at his death, and more inclined to rebel.

Elyan relayed the news to the other Knights, so it was respectfully quiet when Merlin returned. They were also winding down to go to sleep. Gwen left out an apple and chunk of bread for Merlin’s breakfast.

Merlin went straight to his room. Arthur, surprisingly, wasn’t there, so Merlin took the opportunity to count the coin he had hidden and saved up. He wasn’t sure what he was saving _for_ , but he had almost four thousand gold accumulated after nearly five years of being with the Knights. In his uncommonly clear-thinking state, Merlin had a sudden stroke of brilliance. He decided he’d give the money to his mother back in Ealdor, prove that he wasn’t a good-for-nothing son like she seemed to believe just before he ran away.

With a sigh, Merlin put his box of hoarded treasure back in its hiding place, a small space that was part of the ceiling. He didn’t trust the post one bit. It was rumoured that Uther’s men checked each package for weapons or suspicious letters that spoke of uprising. There was no way Merlin’s money would reach his mother. Maybe, when this was all over, Merlin could go back to visit. After all, he wasn’t a kid anymore. And he missed her.

With his coin all accounted for, Merlin decided to take a shower. He had sweat a lot after working and running, and he was sure he reeked. He pulled off his damp shirt, cast it towards his pile of dirty laundry, and headed for the shower room.

The shower room was a cave much like the one Merlin’s pool was in, but there was less moss and more water leaking from the cracked rock ceiling. Lance had built a pipe system, like he had with Merlin’s phone room, and channelled all the dripping water into one stream. By turning a knob, steam increased the pressure, and it went from a steady drip to a man-made waterfall.

Also, instead of candles, the shower room had actual electric light. So when Merlin walked in and saw Arthur naked and bathing, there was no shadow, and nothing was left to the imagination.

Not that Merlin needed his imagination. He’d seen it—Arthur—everything once before, though briefly, and his desire to get reacquainted with the golden flesh flared up as he saw it again.

Arthur hadn’t noticed him yet. He was scrubbing his arms and frowning. When he finally looked up and saw Merlin standing there, he froze and stared back a moment.

Merlin broke the awkward silence as well as he knew how. “About time you found the shower. You were starting to stink up our room.”

“Hilarious, Merlin. As if you coming back from the phone room reeking of marijuana helps the problem.” Arthur went back to massaging circles into his biceps.

Merlin licked his lips, thinking he’d rather be licking the stream of water dripping down Arthur’s balls and between his legs. He tore his gaze away and walked over to Arthur’s pile of clothes. Arthur followed him with his eyes.

“Don’t even think about stealing my clothes,” he warned.

Merlin ignored him and knelt down beside the clothing, searching until he found what he was looking for. The fluorescent light twinkled off the silver ring in his hand.

He looked up at Arthur, beautiful beneath the falling water, and let his quirked eyebrow do the asking for him.

“They’re off,” Arthur said, meaning the cams and mic.

With another grin, this one more devious, Merlin stood and stepped out the rest of his clothes. Arthur’s breath suddenly came in quick, short, bursts and his heart raced in his chest. Merlin, forever moving rapidly and with the ease of an acrobat, now walked forward slowly until he too was under the stream, and water coursed down his lean body in sparkling rivulets.

It drove Arthur mad. If Merlin was attractive dry, he was heartbreakingly sexy when he was wet. As soon as Merlin was within his reach, Arthur pulled Merlin to him, gripping his ears like handles, and brought their lips together forcefully.

It was incredibly desperate. Between training, group meetings, missions, and the ever-present eye of Morgana, they hadn’t had enough time together to explore each other properly. Now they took the opportunity to get to know what the other liked.

The water falling down on them made everything more...more. Arthur’s roaming hands left a trail of fiery desire over Merlin’s skin, the taste on Merlin’s tongue was somehow sweet, the needy grunts and gasps of breath and moans that escaped them was a symphony to their ears.

And the smell...For some reason Merlin didn’t smell the way he usually did, of drugs and sweat and poverty. He smelled _clean_. It went deeper than Merlin’s skin. It was more of an internal cleanliness, like Merlin’s inner spirit had been washed and was all new and shiny. Arthur wanted to press his nose deep into Merlin’s curls and get high on the scent of Merlin alone.

It seemed natural for Arthur to sink to his knees and press his face into Merlin’s crotch. As Arthur had predicted, the smell was stronger here. It had to be. This was the most personal part of Merlin—of anyone, really—and if Arthur couldn’t get inside Merlin’s mind, the next best thing would be to suck him off.

It made sense to Arthur, anyway.

“Fuck, Arthur,” Merlin moaned when Arthur’s puckered lips wrapped around his cock. He put his hands on Arthur’s shoulders and spread his legs apart to steady himself. Arthur planted his hands on the globes of Merlin’s arse and rubbed circles into them, drawing another equally satisfying moan from him.

Arthur knew he wasn’t a master at sucking cock—it was his first time, after all—but he tried his best to make it good for Merlin. When it was clear that Merlin needed more—and it became clear when Merlin let his head fall back and closed his eyes from sheer bliss—Arthur relocated one of his hands to work at what he couldn’t handle with his mouth.

He did what he would have liked to have done to him. He pulled up and twirled his tongue around the head every so often, before diving in and taking as much as he could, then proceeded to move back and forth over the length quickly. He hollowed his cheeks to tighten his lips’ grasp and let his tongue drag across the veiny underside. Eventually his jaw started to ache and spit dribbled down his chin, but he didn’t dare stop. He didn’t want to.

Arthur didn’t know how long he was on his knees. He even forgot where he was and who he was with for a moment. The cock in his mouth seemed to be the only thing in the world worth paying attention to, not who it belonged to, not why it deserved so much attention. Then one of Merlin’s hands came up from Arthur’s shoulders and cradled Arthur’s cheek gently. Arthur lifted his eyes and saw Merlin staring at him with an expression so compassionate and out of character Arthur thought for sure he was hallucinating.

In a moment of stark contrast, Merlin’s hand pushed Arthur off quickly and thick streaks of come painted Arthur’s surprised face.

Merlin, for once, was speechless. Arthur rose slowly, his knees sore from the hard ground, and the rush of water from above cleaned the come off his face. Merlin stared appreciatively at the blue fire of lust in Arthur’s eyes as he cradled Arthur’s cheek again and snaked the other hand between their bodies to grip Arthur’s neglected cock.

Arthur gasped and his head fell forward onto Merlin’s shoulder. He wrapped his arms around Merlin’s waist, holding him close and breathing in the scent that flooded his nostrils and cleared his mind. Merlin’s stroking hand on him tugged and pulled low moans from within, and still it wasn’t enough.

Then Merlin thumbed his leaking tip as he bent down to suck Arthur’s neck, and a wave of pleasure overtook him. Arthur’s body thrummed with an intense, hot feeling that, at Merlin’s final touch, erupted, and he came with Merlin’s name on his lips.

“So fucking beautiful,” Merlin whispered in Arthur’s ear.

Arthur laughed breathlessly, slightly delirious in his post-coital nirvana. “You’re not too bad either,” he replied. “And you’re not so pale as before. You look...healthy.”

Merlin licked his lips and Arthur had to lean forward and kiss them. “Healthy, maybe. Dirty, most definitely,” Merlin said. “Give me the soap, yeah?”

Arthur lip-smiled and picked up the bar of soap off the floor. He lathered his hands and began rubbing them into Merlin’s skin. Merlin took the soap from him and began doing the same to Arthur.

They got to know every part of each other’s body. Every line and curve, every childhood scrape, every birthmark, every battle wound, every centimetre of muscle-toned skin. Merlin ran his hands across Arthur’s pectorals and up over his shoulders, completing the circuit by dragging his fingers down Arthur’s back, around the front, and up again. Arthur let his own hands venture towards the crease of Merlin’s arse and pressed the tip of a wandering finger to the puckered hole. Arthur didn’t have any experience with blokes—hell, he barely had any with girls—but he knew the basics of fucking another man. He knew that if he placed his fingers just so, it would send a spark of pleasure up Merlin’s spine.

At the near intrusion, Merlin inhaled sharply. “A-Arthur,” he gasped.

“Is this okay?” Arthur asked, voice hoarse.

“Fucking more than okay,” Merlin replied cheekily. They laughed only briefly before Arthur’s finger breached Merlin fully and took his breath away again.

“Gods, Merlin, you’re so hot like this.”

Merlin chuckled breathlessly and shifted to allow Arthur better access. He lifted one leg and wrapped it around Arthur’s body, steadying himself with hands on Arthur’s shoulders. Arthur spread his feet apart to accommodate Merlin’s weight leaning on him.

“This’d be better with a proper shower, yeah?” Merlin said into Arthur’s neck.

“What would you know about proper showers, Merlin?” Arthur curled his finger inward and Merlin yelped at the shock of pleasure. Arthur grinned triumphantly. He’d found the spot.

Merlin bit his lip to hold back a moan as Arthur did it again, but it escaped anyway. His hands seemed to have a mind of their own as they clutched Arthur closer to him, and he tightened the hold his leg had on Arthur’s waist.

When Merlin was coherent enough to reply, he said, “I didn’t always live in a sewer, you know.” He’d meant for it to sound like their usual banter, but it came out rather weak. “I had a home, once.”

Arthur was momentarily distracted from his finger’s task as he tried to imagine Merlin living a normal life: Merlin wearing normal clothes, going to a normal school, doing things normal teenagers did. He couldn’t.

“I don’t believe you,” Arthur said as he refocused and added another finger. The soap and water made everything a lot smoother. Merlin’s breath hitched and he moaned again.

“I don’t care what you do or don’t believe. All I care about right now is how fucking amazing your fingers feel.”

Arthur’s chest swelled with affection, despite the first statement. Having Merlin tell him how much he enjoyed this did things to him.

“You like this?” he asked low in Merlin’s ear.

Merlin practically whimpered at the seductive tone. “Fuck you, princess. You know I love this.”

“Yeah?”

“Nnngh.”

Arthur chortled. “So hot,” he repeated.

“So full of yourself.”

“You’re so full of me too,” Arthur nipped Merlin’s earlobe teasingly.

“Not nearly full enough. One day you’re going to fuck me properly. Too tired today.”

“Aw, been a long night for the Mad Scout?” Arthur crooked his fingers and Merlin cried out again.

“Sh-shut up.”

Arthur’s laugh trailed into his next sentence. “How long you want me to keep doing this for? My wrists are getting sore from the angle and surely you can’t come again so soon.”

“Fuck, I was hoping you wouldn’t ever stop. But fine. It’s no fun standing on one leg anyways.”

Merlin lowered his leg and Arthur pulled his fingers gently out of Merlin’s arse. They finished bathing, dried themselves off with towels from the rack on the other side of the cave, and picked up their clothes before leaving. With towels wrapped around their waists, they headed back to their chambers. Leaving the shower room, they ran into Percival, who had continued working out to allow Arthur ample time to shower. Seeing the two boys half-naked together, cheeks still red from arousal, he burst into guffaws.

“Oh my—you and—now that’s funny! I never would have—he looks so _straight_! But I guess looks can be deceiving.”

“Oh shut up, Percival,” Merlin snapped. “No one asked you for your opinion.”

“No, I suppose not,” Perce replied, wiping joyous tears from his eyes. “Too busy shagging each other’s brains out. Not that you have a brain, Merlin. Probably gone up in smoke by now.”

Merlin growled. Under normal circumstances, he would have punched Percival in the face right there. As he was wearing only a towel, however, he simply clenched his fists, ground his teeth, and stomped off toward his room. Arthur, bright red with embarrassment, had no choice but to follow.

“You think he’ll tell the others?” Arthur asked when they were alone again. Thank goodness they hadn’t run into anyone else on the way back.

“Probably,” Merlin replied, throwing his towel in the ever-growing pile. Mother really needed to get on that.

“Great.” Arthur sighed.

Merlin sighed as well. “Whatever. It’s impossible to keep any secrets in this place. Too damn cramped down here. It was only a matter of time, really.”

Arthur slipped into a new pair of pants. “You manage to keep secrets.”

Merlin didn’t bother with pants and just threw on some shorts. He was only sleeping anyways. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

Arthur thought of Gwen and Gaius and how they seemed to know more about Merlin than anyone, Gaius especially. They, along with Leon, had remarked on Merlin’s habit for keeping things to himself, only sharing what he deemed important for the group.

“Like how you opened the cube, for one.”

Merlin shrugged and plopped down onto his bed. He stretched his arm out to grab his headphones and placed them over his ears, signalling the end of the conversation. “Sleep.” The light turned out at the command as he put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, already drifting into sleep.

“Exactly my point,” Arthur muttered. He pulled a loose shirt on, slipped his ring onto his thumb and let his eyes adjust before trying to navigate back to his bed. He still wasn’t familiar enough with the room to do it blind.

Just as he reached his bed, he got an idea and walked silently over to where Merlin lay. Merlin’s chest rose and fell steadily, and Arthur could softly hear the single tune that Merlin always listened to coming from the headphones. _With your feet on the air, and your head on the ground..._

Arthur liked when Merlin was peaceful like he was now. He bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to Merlin’s lips, whispering, “I love you,” against them when he pulled away.

In the darkness, Arthur suddenly saw the whites of Merlin’s eyes and his heart jumped in his throat at being caught. But then Merlin’s arms were circled around Arthur’s neck and he smashed their lips together again.

Arthur placed a hand on Merlin’s chest to keep from falling on top of him, and as the kiss deepened he trailed that hand up the warm flesh to caress Merlin’s face with his thumb. Too soon, Merlin pushed Arthur away, laughing, and said, “You’ve only known me three days. But I think I love you too, princess. Now go to sleep.”

Arthur pinched Merlin’s grinning cheek at the nickname, but otherwise let it slide because of the declaration of love that came with it. He went back to his bed, smiling like he was mad himself, and fell into a pleasant sleep.

After what seemed to be only minutes later, Arthur woke up to a loud voice saying, “Wakey, wakey, lazy daisy!” Arthur groaned and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand before reluctantly opening them. Merlin was laid out beside him, propped up on his side by his elbow and one leg draped over Arthur’s waist beneath the blanket. And he was, of course, sporting a hugely ridiculous grin.

“Merlin?”

“The one and only.”

“You’re...in my bed?” Arthur yawned and rubbed his eyes again.

“Good observation. Now, we have some talking to do.”

“What? Hold on, slow down. I can’t...what?”

Merlin rolled his eyes at Arthur’s lagging mind. He shifted his weight so that he was effectively straddling Arthur and rolled his hips into Arthur’s groin. At the same time he dove in for a kiss, morning breath be damned.

“Wow, okay, I’m awake,” Arthur gasped after they parted. His hands fell naturally to cup Merlin’s arse as the scout continued grinding into him.

“Brilliant. Ready to talk?”

“Not sure how coherent I’ll be if you keep this up,” Arthur replied, nodding to the slow movement of Merlin’s pelvis with a grin. “But sure, go ahead.”

“Well, first, we need to decide when to tell the others you’re the Son.”

Arthur swallowed. “Okay.”

“Then we should figure out how to use that information. I was thinking the Knights could all hold pretend meetings that’ll give Morgana false information. That way you’ll be able to stay in contact with her and give us some intel back. But I much better like the idea of you getting rid of those stupid lenses once and for all.”

“Yeah, so do I. You have no idea what’s it like to know someone is seeing and hearing all the things you are. It’s eerie.”

“Right.” Merlin nodded. “Then when we tell everyone else about who you are, we won’t mention the cams.”

“Agreed.”

“Great. So when are you gonna tell Morgana you quit?”

“Okay, stop, wait a minute.” Arthur lifted Merlin off of him and rolled them on their sides again. Then he sat up and looked down at Merlin’s wide, curious eyes. “I thought we were doing things in order. Tell the Knights first, then my sister.”

Merlin shrugged. “Either way. We should settle on a date.”

Arthur fell back onto the pillows with a sigh. “Can’t things just go on as they have been for a while longer? It’s only been a few days and already I’ve managed to turn everything upside down.”

Now that he said it aloud, it seemed to be more real. All those years spent training to be the best Protector, all that time following in his father’s colossal footsteps, and after just a few days in the presence of this impossible boy named Merlin, he had somehow effortlessly cast off all of his former allegiances to help a group of anarchists. Not to mention he’d fallen in love. A bloke deserved some time to let things sink in.

Merlin settled himself over Arthur again, lay flat on top of him with his chin resting on Arthur’s chest. When he spoke, Arthur could feel the hum of vibration. “Well, obviously it won’t be anytime soon. I’d say a month ought to be long enough for everyone to fully accept you as one of us, but it’s up to you in the end. I don’t want things to change too fast either. And once Morgana finds out you’ve joined us, things _will_ be moving quite quickly.”

He shifted his weight to his left elbow so he could reach up Arthur’s shirt and tease one of Arthur’s nipples. Arthur gasped and his grip on Merlin’s arm tightened. Merlin smiled. “For now I just want to enjoy this.”

“Y-yeah. Me too, Merlin.”

Arthur let his shirt be lifted up and his torso covered in kisses until Merlin began making his way south. Then Merlin let Arthur’s shirt fall and hooked his fingers into Arthur’s pants to slide them down.

“I was extremely rude this morning,” Merlin muttered into Arthur’s stomach. He glanced up at Arthur’s staring eyes that were so dilated with lust they were almost black. “You sucked me off so brilliantly and all I gave you was a quick hand job. I really ought to return the favour.”

“Oh _gods_ , Merlin.” Arthur’s eyes squeezed shut as he threw his head back and arched his spine for more of Merlin’s touch.

Merlin chuckled breathily over the newly exposed cock and pushed Arthur’s hips back down to the mattress. “I wasn’t lying when I said I’m good at giving head. And I know you thought about it too. You thought about me with your cock in my mouth, right there at the table. Didn’t you?”

Even if Arthur did lie, Merlin would have seen right through it. “Yes,” Arthur admitted.

Merlin shuffled backward to rid Arthur of his pants fully, throwing them somewhere off to the side, then lunged forward and practically attacked the erection jutting out in front of him. The sudden sensation of wet heat around him caused Arthur to cry out in surprise. “ _Mer_ lin!”

At first Arthur was awed and amazed. He was just as well-endowed as Merlin, maybe a couple centimetres thicker, but Merlin swallowed all of Arthur like it was no problem. Arthur suspected the boy had no gag reflex and had never been happier. Then Merlin began doing the most obscene things with his tongue, laving over each piece of engorged skin and pulling tricks that left Arthur’s vision blurry. And that was when Merlin wasn’t even moving. When he began to bob up and down on Arthur’s cock, Arthur was completely and thoroughly fucked.

Which is why Arthur began to feel a certain bittersweetness creep in under the ecstasy of his orgasm. Merlin seemed to have sensed it too, because he came up wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and had a mischievous sparkle in his eye, as if silently saying, “I dare you to do better.” He knew Arthur couldn’t resist a challenge.

Arthur pulled Merlin down by the scruff of his neck into a messy, deranged kiss. Arthur tasted himself on Merlin’s tongue, a mixture of sour and sweet. When the kiss got really dirty, with one of Arthur’s hands curled in Merlin’s dark hair and the other traveling down the length of Merlin’s body down to his arse, Merlin pulled his dick out of his shorts and rutted against Arthur’s sweaty skin.

The sound of unashamed panting, moaning and grunting should have been enough to drive anyone away, but not Percival. Merlin was bucking his hips frantically into Arthur when suddenly the door slid open and Percival received a good view of Merlin’s arse muscles tensing as he thrust back and forth. Their shared breathing was so loud that neither of them heard the metallic hiss of the sliding door.

But Percival wasn’t long in making his presence known. “Fucking hell, Merlin, you look like you’re hurting the poor boy!” Two pairs of shocked eyes shifted their gaze to the bodyguard just as Merlin peaked and abruptly came on Arthur’s stomach.

“P-Percival?” Merlin managed to get out while catching his breath. He moved so that he was seated next to Arthur in the bed, with the blanket covering their lower halves. Merlin had at least that much modesty.

Perce laughed heartily. “Surprised? So am I.”

“What the hell are you doing in our room?” Merlin squawked, recovered enough to be properly upset by now.

“Oh, ‘our room’ now, is it?” Perce raised a suggestive eyebrow.

“Quit being a twat and tell us what you want!” Arthur yelled in a moment of anger.

“Whoa.” Perce put his palms up defensively. “I just came to tell you that dinner is ready. How d’your arms feel today, Arthur? Any soreness?”

Merlin thought he was making some sort of innuendo but Arthur squashed that quickly. “A bit. Is there a lot to be done today? I want to keep at it.”

Merlin nudged Arthur with his elbow. “Keep at what?”

Percival answered for him. “I told Arthur here that you let him win in a fight and now he’s out to prove himself some sort of Spartan warrior.” Perce crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe with a satisfied smirk.

Merlin grew livid. He launched himself out of the bed and at the grinning muscle man. Seeing a wild-eyed, half-naked, druggie come at him wiped the grin off his face though.

“You _idiot_!” Merlin shouted, shaking his fist at the man. “You thick-skulled, dim-witted tosser!”

“Merlin, what the hell are you doing?” Arthur asked, suddenly frightened but trying to hide it. He was still mentally on the fact that Percival had walked in on them just as Merlin’s come painted his abdomen.

Merlin waved a disinterested hand behind him and focused on Percival. “Why would you tell him that?” he demanded of the wide-eyed bodyguard.

“I didn’t see why I shouldn’t,” Perce replied. “I still don’t understand why it’s such a big deal.”

He was backed against the wall by now and Merlin had followed him out into the hallway. The door sensors no longer detected anyone in the doorway and slid shut behind them. Arthur wiped his torso with an old shirt, and threw on some pants and a pair of trousers to keep up with them. He was just reaching out for the button to open the door when he heard a loud booming noise, followed by the sound of shattered rock falling to the floor. Arthur opened the door quickly and what he saw in the hallway defied logic.

Where Percival’s head had just been, there was now a fist-sized hole in the concrete wall. Percival himself was crouching low with his arms up to shield his body from any further attacks. Merlin stood red-faced and huffing nearby.

“What the—”

“Merlin!” Gaius’s sharp tone cut short Arthur’s exclamation of shock and all eyes turned to see the old man at the end of the corridor, looking very angry.

Merlin seemed to come back to himself then, looking first at the hole in the wall, then at his fist, then at the hole again, and at last resting his eyes on Gaius. “G-Gaius, I didn’t mean to—”

“Meet me in my chambers immediately,” Gaius snapped and left with a disapproving glare. His gaze flickered to Arthur for a brief moment, so brief Arthur wasn’t sure it had happened at all.

“Fucking freak,” Percival muttered, just barely audible, before standing up straight and dashing back to the main atrium. As soon as he was gone, Merlin hunched in on himself and collapsed to the floor. It felt as if a piece of his chest had been ripped out.

Arthur rushed forward and took Merlin up in his arms. “Are you alright?” He didn’t like the hollow look in Merlin’s eyes or the way he was slack-jawed.

All of a sudden Merlin’s eyes refocused and he noticed Arthur was there for the first time. He gathered himself up and stood straight, pushing away from Arthur’s embrace. “I’m fine. You should turn the cameras on soon. Let’s put on a good show tonight, okay?” His face stretched in a smile and it scared Arthur to see how genuine it looked. “Try not to let her see or hear anything about the bullets.” He kissed the side of Arthur’s mouth quickly and ran off in the direction of Gaius’s room, leaving Arthur puzzled and disbelieving.

“What bullets?” Arthur asked the empty hallway.

Merlin stepped into Gaius’s book-littered chamber reluctantly. As soon as he lifted his eyes he saw Gaius sitting behind his desk, waiting for him with a look of stern disappointment.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin said as soon as their eyes met. “I lost control. I didn’t mean to.”

Gaius’s lips formed a thin line. He said nothing, only gestured for Merlin to sit in the chair on the opposite side of the desk. Walking up to take a seat, Merlin felt a bit like he did when he was called to the Head Principal’s office in school. He dreaded the lecture sure to follow.

“What have I said about your temper, Merlin?” Gaius began.

“Gods, you sound just like my mum.” Merlin crossed his arms.

“Merlin.”

“To not let it control my actions,” Merlin replied obediently. “But I can’t help it! Even the nicest people in the world get to lose control sometimes.”

“They don’t have magic. They don’t make things explode just by thinking about it or punch holes in concrete walls.”

“What’s done is done. Have you really only got me here to give me another speech about the importance of hiding my magic?”

“If I don’t keep reminding you to be careful, no one will.”

“I managed just fine without reminders the first fifteen years, you know.”

“You had a mother.”

“Whatever! I’m older now. I don’t need any warnings or slaps on the wrist.”

“Evidently, you do,” Gaius remarked raising his eyebrow.

Merlin stood abruptly and started toward the door. “It was a minor slip-up, Gaius. It happens to everyone, magic or no.”

“Don’t leave just yet, Merlin.”

Merlin spun on his heel. “What?”

“Was it about Arthur?”

At Gaius’s softened tone and expression, Merlin forced himself to calm down. He looked down at his feet and confessed, “Yes.”

“I thought as much. Care to tell me what happened?”

“Percival told Arthur that I let him beat me when we fought.”

“Did you?”

“Of course I did. He could never actually beat me.”

“But why? The point of training is to work on mistakes, not make someone feel superior than they really are.”

“I admit, it was stupid of me. I didn’t think it all the way through. And I wasn’t going to let him win, at first. But then...”

Merlin shrugged the rest off. He didn’t want to say that he’d come up with the idea in order to get Arthur to smile, that seeing Arthur truly glad about something as insignificant as pinning Merlin down lifted a small weight off Merlin’s chest.

“It was stupid. I don’t even know why I got so upset over it just now.”

“I see.” Gaius folded his arms over his desk with a sigh. “Well, I suspect your dinner will be cold by now. Better get on your way.”

Merlin sucked his lower lip, contemplating whether or not he should finish his explanation. Gaius was like a father to him, was the only one among the Knights that he could trust with everything. Maybe he could tell him. Maybe he could explain about the memories and the screams and the nightmares that haunted him.

Merlin held his tongue and turned to go.

“—a time bomb waiting to go off! There’s something seriously wrong with him, I’m telling you. We ought to get him to a head doctor and have him diagnosed.”

It was Percival’s voice Arthur heard as he walked into the front room where they were all seated around the table. All talking ceased the moment they caught sight of Arthur. He ignored their questioning stares, took a seat and began eating his stew as though nothing were out of the ordinary.

Elyan was the one with the courage to resume the conversation. “Do you really think that’ll help? Is there a disorder for being just plain old _weird_?”

“It’s not just the weirdness,” Percival explained. “It’s the constant back and forth. One minute he was fine and the next it was like he was closing in for the kill. If his hand did that to the wall, imagine what it would have done to me.”

“I still can’t believe he did that,” Gwen mused, shaking her head. “I mean, I know he has a bit of a temper, but he doesn’t usually take it out on us. He always goes to his room or finds some reds to beat up.”

“Who knows with Merlin,” Lance commented, shrugging. “It’s like we’ve all said before: the bloke’s a mystery. You can’t say he usually does this or has a habit of doing that, because with guys like him, he’s completely unpredictable. You just learn to take whatever shit gets thrown at you and deal with it.”

“I still say we take him to a shrink,” Percival insisted. “In the five years that freak has been here, he’s never done something like this. I’m serious, there was bloody murder in those eyes.”

It was true that Percival looked shaken up. His eyes flitted around like Merlin might be lurking nearby to pounce on him for a second try. Arthur was just about to get up and take his bowl back to his room when a drop of something landed in front of him and a spattered circle appeared on the table. He looked up to the ceiling slowly. There, perched on the bar above, was Merlin staring down at the gossiping group below. It was a single tear that had slid down Merlin’s cheek that Arthur saw on the table.

Merlin was only barely visible in the shadowy rafters. He seemed to not be real the longer Arthur stared. Surely Merlin saw him looking up at him, but the Mad Scout made no sign to acknowledge it. He simply sat there peering down unblinkingly and listened to his fellow knights talk about him.

It was fucking creepy.

Arthur looked back down to his bowl. Gwen had added some sort of herb to the stew—basil? maybe parsley?—in a slapdash attempt to make it seem like they didn’t have the same dish every day. It was actually pretty good and Arthur found he appreciated the small effort. If he were back in the tower, where hired chefs made all his meals, Arthur would hardly have noticed the difference.

The others were ignorant of Merlin’s presence. They went on talking about him as if he were a science experiment to be poked and prodded at. What seemed to really set Merlin off the most? How did the scout’s mind work? He was capable of basic social functioning, and even seemed intelligent at times. He read _books_ for fuck’s sake. _Real_ books. But at the same time, at the flip of some mental switch, he could turn into a fucking psycho.

“I just wanna know why, is all,” Percival brought their conversation to a close. “If he’d explained to me why he didn’t want Arthur to know, like a reasonable person, I would have said, ‘Fine. No problem. My lips are sealed.’ But instead of coming out and saying anything he just lunges at me!”

The dishes rattled as Merlin dropped from the ceiling and landed in a crouch in the centre of the round table. Percival nearly fell out of his chair, he jumped so high.

Merlin leaned forward onto his hands with a feline grace that, strangely, turned Arthur on. Merlin brought his face close to the quivering bodyguard’s and said, “You want to know why I did it? Really?”

Percival swallowed and nodded. A bead of sweat ran down the side of his face.

“Okay. Don’t tell anyone, got it?”

“I won’t,” Percival swore.

Merlin contemplated another second then crawled a short distance forward so he could whisper in Perce’s ear. After a moment, to everyone’s surprise, Percival _smiled._

“A bit of an overreaction, don’t you think, Merlin?” Percival said, laughing.

Merlin’s lips curved up in a crooked smile and he shrugged. “So I lost my temper. It happens.”

“You almost killed me!”

“Yeah. About that.” Merlin’s smile widened in that maddening way of his again. “Let’s forget that ever happened. Mates?” He stuck out a hand as a peace offering.

Percival glared at the grinning boy on the table a long time, but everyone knew it was just for show. Finally he spit into the palm of his hand and clasped it to Merlin’s.

Merlin jumped back and shook his hand like it was on fire. “Ew, gross! You’re fucking sick, you know that?”

Percival’s laughter echoed off the walls. “You deserve that and more for the fright you gave me, you little shit.”

Merlin mumbled something bitterly. He backflipped off the table and left the four of them to themselves. Arthur got up silently and trailed behind him.

Arthur followed Merlin to the phone room. He was getting pretty good at sneaking behind people. Peering in through the window, he saw Merlin changing into a pair of paint-splattered shoes. Then Merlin walked over to the enclosed area in the far corner, turned the pipe for green paint, and let the bottom of his shoes pick up a good amount. When Merlin took off running, he left a trail of fresh green footprints behind him.

Watching Merlin run was mesmerising. The way he threw his body around like it was nothing made it look easy, but Arthur knew just from trying to haul himself up to the platform in their room that it wasn’t. It required a lot of strength and agility that Arthur just didn’t have. And Merlin was like some sort of free-running god.

Merlin continued to paint the room with various colours for a while. Arthur never got bored of watching him, though a nagging thought in the back of his mind registered that Morgana did. If Arthur watched too long, his sister might think he was developing feelings for the Mad Scout. Sighing, Arthur turned and went in search of Percival for more training.

Merlin kicked off his paint shoes and collapsed onto the floor. He lay with his eyes closed, chest heaving from the run. When he caught his breath, he unzipped his favourite pocket and started to get high.

Now Merlin could think of Percival calling him a freak without getting too upset. He could think of Mother’s worried face when she heard what he did. He could think of Arthur’s parted lips as Arthur looked up at him, caught him watching from above in the rafters as everyone else talked ignorantly on. He could even let his thoughts drift to...

And it didn’t hurt so much when he was high. Weed never failed to take away some of the pain. The faces of people he killed became blurry, their screams no longer echoed in his head. Not when he was floating like this, carefree and gone.

They really wanted to know what made Merlin tick? It was that awful word Perce kept using, “freak.” Merlin could handle being called odd, strange, weird, eccentric, different, peculiar, and even mental wasn’t so bad. But the word freak had followed Merlin all his life. He thought he’d escaped it when he left Ealdor, but once he became the Mad Scout, it had appeared from nowhere and wrapped its claws around his neck yet again.

What else set Merlin off? The laughter. Merlin enjoyed a good joke, loved making people smile and giggle at something he said, but for anyone to laugh directly at him? It brought back too many painful memories from childhood. That was the real reason for his breakdown with Arthur that first day.

Merlin could have taken it before, maybe. Before he murdered someone for the first time and something in him snapped, causing his feigned madness to be not entirely feigned anymore. He always had a terrible temper, but since _that_ night it was harder to restrain himself from lashing out. His magic could rid his body of disease, so why couldn’t it cleanse him of this madness as well?

Merlin never wanted to dwell on these thoughts, wanted the invading memories to stay locked up behind the wall, so he smoked. He used to do blow, crystal, and a lot more heroin than he did now, but it was harder to navigate rooftops when hallucinating so much. Those drugs weren’t like marijuana or molly. He was supposedly clean, but who knew how long Leon would believe that lie this time.

When the drug in the bowl was all burnt up, Merlin stood and carefully manoeuvred himself down to floor level. He stumbled into the red phone box and dialled the only number the telephone would reach. Kilgharrah didn’t answer. Merlin banged the bulky phone on the hook again and again. Stupid outdated communications device. He went back up to his platform and resolved to sulk there until somebody needed him.

Arthur’s question about the bullets wasn’t answered until the end of his first week underground. Everyone—except him, Arthur pointedly noticed—was kept busy fortifying the Castle. Before they went to sleep each morning—and after many a frantic session of frotting—Merlin told Arthur anything important he should be aware of, namely things he should avoid letting Morgana see or hear. The Castle’s war preparations were one of these things. So while Elyan checked and double-checked their access to CCTV, while Lance hobbled around reinforcing shields, and Leon pre-loaded machine gun turrets, Arthur got to walk around topside and try to sniff out more Infiltrators.

It was a lonely job, except for the few times he sat around and talked with the squires. Merlin managed to talk his way out of it by bringing up the point that nobody, not even actual alley dwellers, would want to talk to him about their problems. They looked up to him but were too afraid of the Mad Scout to say anything they thought wouldn’t flatter him. So as his first real task as a Knight, Arthur got to do this on his own. Who knew where Merlin was during all the commotion. He wasn’t helping down in the Castle, so he was probably off somewhere getting shitfaced. He never told Arthur much of anything, not even in the few moments of post-coital bliss when he was at his most vulnerable. And after a staged conversation with him while high—to satisfy Morgana’s wishes to try to get something out of him—Arthur discovered that Merlin really was just that tight-lipped.

October became November halfway through Arthur’s second week. The morning of the fourth of November was particularly memorable because it was the morning Merlin didn’t come back.

Arthur was distraught with worry, but he didn’t dare ask anyone anything. At seven, when Merlin hadn’t skipped into the room overflowing with false mirth, Arthur made as if he was going to sleep and turned the cams off. Free from Morgana’s prying eyes, he allowed himself to pace back and forth anxiously.

This wasn’t like Merlin. Merlin was unpredictable, but _this_ part of him was routine. He always came back to Arthur right after dawn, crawled into Arthur’s bed just as Arthur was about to drift off to sleep. Without Merlin’s reassuring warmth, Arthur didn’t think he even _could_ get to sleep.

By ten, Arthur couldn’t take it anymore. He padded down the corridor to Lance and Gwen’s room and gently whispered Gwen awake. She was curled up in Lance’s protective embrace and snapped her eyes open like she hadn’t been sleeping at all.

“Arthur?” She checked to make sure Lance hadn’t woken up. He hadn’t. “Is everything alright?”

Arthur shook his head. “It’s Merlin. He hasn’t come back yet.” All of a sudden Arthur felt incredibly childish, like he had when he’d run to Morgana’s bed in the middle of the night from bad dreams.

But Gwen didn’t see it that way. She was, as Gaius had said, understanding. At the expression on Arthur’s face, she slid smoothly out from under Lance’s arm and they walked back to the kitchen where they could talk more freely.

“Gwen.” Arthur’s voice broke, and he tried again. “Gwen, do you think...do you think he lost his footing, or fell, or was shot, or—”

“Shh, Arthur.” She wrapped him in her arms and put his face to her neck. He was a head taller but she somehow made him shrink to the perfect size for coddling. If Arthur wasn’t so worried he would have been embarrassed. “Merlin doesn’t lose his footing. He doesn’t fall. He only got shot once or twice, and that was because he was provoking them.”

Arthur knew that. He’d seen the wound on Merlin’s thigh where a laser had grazed him, and the scar from the stitches where he’d been shot in the shoulder. And Merlin had said he was careful, that he was too quick, too keen-eyed for it to ever happen again. But what if it _did_ happen again? Or what if they ambushed him or he was high and therefore slow to react...?

Arthur didn’t realise he was trembling until Gwen rubbed his back soothingly. “There, there,” she said. “Our Merlin is probably just passed out somewhere. I’m willing to bet he nearly overdosed on blow or whatever he’s doing these days and lost consciousness. He’ll be back soon.”

Arthur looked up. That didn’t sound like a very pleasant alternative. “Does that happen a lot?”

Gwen stared back at him evenly. “More than I’d like.”

Arthur dropped his head to her shoulder again. He was in love with an unpredictable, reckless, completely mental, free-running druggie, and from the sound of things it seemed like he’d have to get used to constantly wondering whether or not his love would make it home in one piece. What the hell had he gotten himself into?

At least Gwen seemed to understand. Gwen had expressed worry about Merlin from the very beginning, so Arthur felt safe bringing his fears to her. And her hand on his back was calming. Maybe Arthur was overreacting a bit after all.

When Gwen’s shirt started to get damp from Arthur’s tears, Arthur pulled free of her embrace and stuttered, “Shit. I’ve...s-sorry, Mother, I didn’t mean to...I just woke you up and got upset for no reason, didn’t I?” Arthur retreated a few steps back, red-faced and ashamed. It was one thing to bring his fears to this woman and another to cry about them on her shoulder.

Thankfully, Gwen smiled and shook her head. Arthur was glad she let him have his space. “It wouldn’t be the first time. Don’t worry about me. It’s what I’m here for, after all. And don’t let Merlin’s absence trouble you. I’m sure he’ll be back by midday.” She gifted Arthur another motherly grin and squeezed his shoulder affectionately. “Get some sleep, Arthur.” Yawning, she turned and went back to bed.

Arthur knew he wouldn’t be able to get to sleep on his own. Not with the possibility of Merlin lying drugged and useless on the street where his father’s men could kill him. Not without Merlin’s warmth next to him beneath the blanket. He got a glass of water and took one of Merlin’s sleeping pills and didn’t open his eyes until Gwen shook him awake.

Merlin still wasn’t back. It was eight at night and Merlin hadn’t come home. He had taken a headset with him, but he wasn’t answering. And Elyan couldn’t pick up the transmitter he’d placed into the device.

Protector training kept Arthur from having a panic attack. When he got to the main atrium, all the Knights were chattering anxiously to one another. At the sight of Arthur, they fell silent.

Arthur tried his best to be Merlin. He cracked a smile and said, “Does everyone know then?” Was it obvious how much he’d come to care about the Mad Scout?

“Sort of,” Elyan said. “Percival here has got a big mouth.”

“Yeah, well.” Arthur shrugged. “We’re fucking.” Maybe Merlin had the right idea about downplaying serious things. It certainly made these types of situations easier. “You find him yet?”

All shook their head in silence. The atmosphere was thick and unbearable without Merlin there to liven things up. Too many long seconds passed and Arthur found himself getting angry.

“Are we going to just stand here or what?” he asked the group.

“We’ve already looked everywhere he might be,” Leon said.

“So he’s gone missing then,” Arthur stated matter-of-factly. “The Prots have him and they’re going to execute him just like they did Mordred except worse because—” Arthur bit his tongue. It wouldn’t help any getting himself upset, and besides, Morgana was watching.

Gaius, ever the voice of reason, stepped forward. “Merlin could never be captured by the Protectors. And if they did catch him, they wouldn’t kill him so soon after Mordred, not unless they want another riot on their hands.”

Arthur winced. He had been seventeen when the infamous July Riot happened, and from what he had heard and seen on television, it had been a bloodbath. The Knights and many of the citizens of Lower Camelot had risen for the night and had an impromptu war. Morgana had had to increase spending on grief counselling to treat people with post-traumatic stress disorder for months after the men endured that.

As if reading his mind, Leon said, “And nobody wants that.”

Arthur chewed his lip in dissatisfaction. He realised that they’d searched before waking him because they didn’t want to worry him, but he worried _because_ he hadn’t been part of the search. Frowning, he told them, “I’ll wait in the phone room in case he goes there, I guess.”

The minute Arthur set foot in the phone room, the ringing began. Arthur froze. Only Merlin ever got calls, but Merlin wasn’t here.

Yet the phone rang on. After a moment’s hesitation, Arthur spun on his heels and sprinted back to the main atrium.

“Leon, Elyan, anyone,” he panted. “The phone...it’s ringing...come quick!”

All except Lance and Gaius followed Arthur back to the ringing telephone. Leon, being the leader, stepped forward to answer it first, but as soon as his foot entered the box, the ringing stopped.

Everyone froze and looked at each other with wide eyes. Leon retreated and the phone started up again. Once more, when he approached the booth, the ringing stopped.

“He knows,” Leon said. “He knows it’s not Merlin.”

“But Merlin isn’t here! If he knows so much, why would he call when Merlin obviously isn’t here?” Arthur protested.

“When did it first start ringing?” Elyan asked.

“As soon as I...” Arthur shook his head, understanding. He had no interest in talking to this man who knew too much about him, knew he was the Son. Especially in front of the Knights. “No way. You don’t think he’s calling me, do you?”

But the look on everyone’s faces said they did. The shrill ringing began again and this time, Elyan pushed Arthur forward. “Go on, answer it. He might know where Merlin is.”

That was all it took to get Arthur going. He stepped into the box and, as expected, it kept ringing. For him. He picked it up and slowly brought the receiver to his ear. It was weird holding such an outdated device.

As soon as the cool metal touched the skin of his ear, an old, raspy, yet powerful voice spoke. “Arthur Pendragon.”

Arthur’s heart raced. He swallowed thickly and gripped the phone tighter. “Hello.”

“Merlin is in an alley on Westminster. He’s in trouble. Hurry.” The line went dead.

Arthur put the phone on the hook and took off running. He pushed past the other Knights who had crowded around the box, shouting, “Westminster, Westminster!” He didn’t pay attention to anything else they said after him as he ran.

Having to travel back and forth from the Castle to Camelot alone for nearly two weeks made it easier for Arthur to navigate the halls. He ran down long white corridors, knowing which way to turn by part instinct and part memory. It was as if he was being pulled to Merlin, being reeled in by a fishing line.

Behind him, Arthur heard heavy breathing but didn’t turn to look to see which of the Knights was following him until he reached an entrance back to the city. It was Leon. Arthur held the door open for him then together they rushed toward their Mad Scout.

“Not over yet, not over yet, just one more.”

Merlin chanted to himself to keep going. He was surrounded. No matter how many times he lashed out at the shadows, they seemed to keep appearing out of nowhere. They howled in pain as Merlin hit them and they collapsed. Merlin laughed at each small victory, however short-lived it was before the next wave of enemies rushed towards him.

“Too many. Get off. I said get off!” Merlin’s voice rose from a whisper to a shout. He felt hands on him. Soon he would have to use his magic to slip away.

“Merlin, it’s me, Will,” Merlin heard. “Your mate, remember? Merlin?”

Will? Merlin tried to turn his head to look around but his neck wouldn’t turn. He felt something hard against his back—was he on the ground?—but he couldn’t stop to think too hard about it. There were more reds on the way, more leering faces coming at him, calling him a freak, telling him to run along so he wouldn’t get hurt.

Merlin’s heart raced from the adrenaline and it was hard to speak, he was so out of breath. “Warning you…going to kill you…Run if I were you.”

Will’s voice again. “Merlin, what the hell are you talking about?”

Merlin paid it no mind. Shadows dropped around him as he gutted one with his blade and nicked the laser rifle off another to shoot him between the eyes.

_Dead, dead, dead. Eight, nine, ten. Dead, dead, dead._

“Shit. This is...I’m not qualified to deal with this.”

Merlin was shivering. Why was he shivering? It was the middle of July, he shouldn’t have been cold. The shadows were much less in number now and soon there was only one left. This was the only one Merlin could get a real good look at, the only one that wasn’t faceless.

He was young, probably only a few years older than Merlin’s seventeen. His Prot tag read D. Stewart in bold stencilled letters over his breast pocket. He was smirking and his lips were moving _fucking freak like you doing in a place like this_ and then they weren’t. D. Stewart wasn’t moving at all, he was just as faceless as the rest, only it wasn’t because Merlin’s vision was blurred but because his skull had caved in why had his skull caved in why was Merlin’s right leg dripping why was he shivering in the middle of July—

“I’m sorry. Oh gods, I’m so fucking sorry,” Merlin sobbed.

“Hey! Over here!” Merlin heard Will’s voice again. He tried to look around, but couldn’t move the way he should have been able to. For a moment he saw Will’s face and tall buildings rising on either side above him. Just as quickly it was replaced by more shadows.

“Where is he?” Arthur’s voice. Where was Arthur?

“Finally. I thought I was going to go mad myself.” A sigh. “He’s right here. Won’t stop shaking or talking.”

He had to focus on the words. If Arthur was here…No. Arthur couldn’t see what he had done to this boy. The way he already looked at him, like he was frightened…Merlin didn’t want to frighten Arthur. Not Arthur.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Merlin chanted.

“Oh my gods. What happened?” _No, Arthur, don’t look—_

“I don’t know. He hasn’t made a word of sense since he showed up early this morning.”

“How early?”

“Little after dawn. I saw him walking by with murder in his eyes and managed to bring him here. He didn’t look right, you know? He’s been alternating between muttering and screaming nonsense since then, and won’t unclench his hands.”

The shadows were coming back. “Again, again, let’s do that again!” Merlin suddenly shouted.

“Oh gods.” Was that Leon? Merlin tried to turn his head. The leader would be sure to help take care of the Prot bastards. “There’s no way. Is he...?”

“Is he what?”

In the pause that followed, Merlin lashed out with his right foot. It seemed to be caught on something wet and sticky. He looked down and saw the ground beneath him ran with blood and bone fragments.

 “We have to get him back to the Castle. Now.”

 

“Shh, Merlin.” Merlin froze at Arthur’s voice in his ear. He felt arms around him, not forcefully trying to hold him down like they had been before, but gentle, cradling him. He couldn’t see Arthur, but his voice anchored him. “We’re going home. Just be quiet, alright? Try not to draw attention.”

Merlin’s heart slowed as he tried to calm himself. Arthur was bright like the sun. He’d made all the shadows go away. Arthur was strong like Percival. He’d kill anything that tried to hurt him.

“Thanks for taking care of him, Will,” Leon’s voice said.

A hand came up and stroked the back of his neck. Protectors fell to the ground as Arthur’s light burned them. “Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one,” Merlin counted softly.

“You make sure he’s okay.”

Merlin could hear Arthur’s voice where it rose from deep in his chest. “I swear.”

They’d laid Merlin down in his bed for the time being, but they could tell Merlin was getting restless. His body trembled like it was full of constant adrenaline and he screamed so long and loud he eventually made his voice hoarse.

“What the hell is going on, Leon?” Arthur demanded. It hurt him seeing Merlin this way. Merlin had woken up screaming before, but _this_ was no nightmare.

“I have to speak with Gaius, but I think...Merlin might have post-traumatic stress disorder. Based on the way he’s acting, almost like he’s reliving...” Leon shook his head. “I don’t know for certain yet. Just try to stay clear of him. I’m not sure how long this will go on for, but be cautious around him. He’s dangerous.”

Leon patted Arthur on the shoulder and went off with a grave expression to see Gaius. The other Knights made attempts to peek at Merlin but were scared off by the screams. Arthur sat and waited outside the door.

Eventually Leon returned with a frowning Gaius. His frown deepened when Merlin ended his counting by yelling, “Twenty-seven! Twenty-seven! Twenty-seven!” and Merlin fell abruptly silent.

All eyes widened and Arthur rushed in. Merlin had gotten up at some point, passed out and was sprawled on the floor bonelessly. His chest heaved with each laboured breath.

Wordlessly, Arthur knelt by Merlin and put his head in his lap, stroking the wild hair and removing stubborn strands from his face. Gaius shuffled in on Leon’s heels.

“Put him on the bed,” Gaius said. Leon helped Arthur lift him on top of the small mattress.

“Leon said he might have PTSD,” Arthur looked between them. “What did he mean? What could be so traumatic for _Merlin_? I mean, he’s Merlin!” Arthur gestured to the sleeping scout. “Nothing fazes him. I’ve seen him kill people without even blinking.” But even as Arthur said it he remembered Merlin’s earlier words when they were in the phone room. Wasn’t that how their whole relationship had started in the first place, with Arthur holding him while he cried?

Gaius looked at Arthur with pity and Arthur bristled. “It’s not my place to tell you. Merlin will, eventually. I’m not even sure he _can_ talk about it now. But considering how close the two of you are, I think it’s something he should say himself.” Leon looked like he disagreed with the old man but held his tongue.

“Okay,” Arthur breathed through his nose to keep from throttling Gaius and demanding the truth. “So then what happened? If he does have PTSD, what the hell triggered it?” He still couldn’t imagine anything getting to Merlin. It was true the scout had a temper and was all out weird but he never descended into madness, not like this.

“It was probably something that reminded him of...of the event,” Leon filtered his explanation. “We don’t know what it is. Merlin is a mystery enough already and we didn’t even know he _had_ PTSD until this happened. He was eccentric even before the—it—happened. To think he’s been hiding this for so long...” Leon shook his head sympathetically. “This explains a lot though.”

Gaius reassured Leon with a hand on his shoulder. “What’s done is done. From now on we’ll just have to be more considerate of Merlin’s temperament. I’ve always said he puts up a front for you all. I hope now you’ll believe it.”

They deemed it safe enough for Arthur to sleep there that night. The background mumblings that usually filled the silence and provided a peaceful backdrop for Arthur to sleep to weren’t there. Merlin slept soundly, snoring softly.

Until he started whimpering and tossing about.

Arthur got up from his bed and padded across the room in the darkness. “Merlin,” he put a hesitant hand on Merlin’s arm and Merlin jerked awake.

“Arthur,” he gasped. He gripped Arthur’s invading hand and pulled Arthur onto the bed with him roughly. “Don’t tell my mum what I’ve done. Don’t tell my mum I’m a killer.”

“M-Merlin?”

“Don’t tell her!” Merlin repeated urgently.

“I won’t.”

Merlin seemed to breathe easier and hugged Arthur close. He made a small noise of protest when Arthur moved but let it go when he realised Arthur was just getting under the blanket with him. Arthur put his arm around Merlin’s body and let Merlin curl up into his side.

In the dim glow from the light in the corridor, Arthur could see Merlin’s grateful smile was heartbreakingly beautiful even through the partial insanity. He kissed the top of Merlin’s head and soon Merlin was snoring as softly as before.

It was always odd comforting Merlin. The scout could go from boisterous to melancholy, furious to sorrowful, and back again. Dealing with Merlin was often like walking on eggshells: something was sure to crack, it was only a matter of what.

Arthur supposed he should have seen it before. Merlin was young and had killed dozens, hundreds if the amount of times he didn’t report it to the Knights was an indicator. Of course he was traumatised. Wouldn’t Arthur be? Merlin wasn’t like Percival. He may have had the strength to put up a front but not enough to actually be alright with responsibility such as life and death.

Still, Leon had said there’d been one event in particular. Arthur couldn’t imagine what that would be, but he would find out.

“Do you know where Merlin’s mother is?” Arthur asked. Merlin was still resting, probably still embarrassed about what happened, so Arthur had gone to dinner alone.

The Knights shook their heads but Gaius looked like he knew.

“Merlin doesn’t tell anybody anything,” Gwen replied for the group. “Not even Freya knows where he’s from and she was his first real friend here.”

Arthur longed to ask the old man but had a feeling he would stay just as tight-lipped as ever. “He was mumbling about her last night,” he lied easily. “Thought he might want to visit her. He’s not from around here, is he?” Otherwise Merlin’s mother would be all too privy to her son’s madness.

Leon shook his head. “All he’s ever said is he ran away. Didn’t say why or anything.”

Percival opened his mouth to say something but Gwen kicked his shin under the table and shut him up. It was just as well. He probably would have said something insulting anyway and Arthur wasn’t in the mood for that.

Merlin opened his eyes. The worst of it seemed to have passed. He wasn’t trembling so horribly anymore and the long day of rest was just what he had needed. Still, his body was weak from exertion and his throat felt raw.

He stumbled to the door and when he pressed the button it opened too quickly and he fell into the hallway. The light was blinding and he lay there in a heap for a few moments to collect himself. Finally, paranoid that someone would find him and follow him, he got to his feet using the walls for support and hurried to his secret cave, falling only four more times on the way.

Merlin didn’t care about soaking his clothes. He plunged into the small pool and the water glowed a brighter gold than it ever had before.

When he dragged himself out it was almost two hours later. He lay soaking wet on the hard, cold stone, staring up at the cracked ceiling. His skin was a healthy pink, his muscles felt strong, and his mind was his own again, at least for the moment.

Merlin couldn’t be sure just yet, but he felt great. He didn’t feel like going on a killing spree as he had only hours ago, or like blowing up the entire city in a fit of anger. He felt like going for a run.

But he couldn’t do that yet. He had to figure out what happened and the only way he could think to do that was by calling Kilgharrah. He ran back to the phone room and the cryptic advisor answered, surprisingly, on the first ring.

“Glad to see you are yourself again.”

“Aw, you do care,” Merlin mocked.

“You’re a crucial part of the revolution,” Kilgharrah replied flatly.

“Uh huh. So what happened? I was running one minute and seeing red the next. I was...I was...”

“At the July Riot again?”

“Yeah.” Merlin swallowed. It had felt like it happened to a different person, like there were two of him. He remembered being stuck right in the middle of battle, as if he was really _there_ , but he’d also been partially aware of what was really happening. It was...weird.

“I was able to piece together what happened with one of my many eyes,” Kilgharrah said. “You have post-traumatic stress disorder and it seems you ran into a trigger. However, as I’m not completely certain you won’t have another episode again, I don’t think I should mention it.”

Merlin had figured as much but had never let himself think about it too hard. He preferred to get high instead. “How do I know what to avoid then?” he asked.

“Hmm. Perhaps I can say this,” he began. “It’s a person. A girl. As long as you avoid contact with her—seeing her, hearing her name, or anything associated with her—you should be fine.”

Merlin tried not to think of who this girl could be. There were thousands, millions of girls in the city. He just had to be on the lookout for one.

“How can you be so certain this is the only thing that will make me go all mental again? What if something else—”

“Because so far, this has only happened once, yes? And from what I can tell, it only happened when this girl was in the vicinity.”

“Okay,” Merlin breathed. He knew calling Kil was the right thing. The man was literally omniscient. Well maybe not literally, but he was pretty damn informed. Merlin had a feeling he was just a more talented hacker than Elyan and had access to cameras all across the city at the same time. It would explain his “many eyes” remark.

“Goodbye, Merlin.”

Before Merlin could ask for any more information, the insufferable bastard hung up. He sighed in exasperation and changed into his paint shoes. The dip in his cleansing pool had restored his strength. He started out with purple. He was in a purple mood today.

When Merlin’s feet had been through the rainbow twice, the door to the phone room opened and a breathless Arthur came running in. Merlin flipped off the platform he was on and landed in front of the wide-eyed blond.

“Hiya, Arthur!” he sing-songed with a stretched grin.

Arthur stood gaping at him, then rushed forward and pulled him into the tight hug.

“Can’t breathe, mate,” Merlin squeaked.

Arthur loosened his hold but didn’t let go. He buried his face in Merlin’s neck. “I was so worried, Merlin. When I got back and you weren’t there I thought...I didn’t know what to think. But you’re here and you look...healthy.” He placed a series of wet kisses to Merlin’s cheek. “You scared me half to death, Merlin. Mother and I were convinced you’d gone off the deep end.”

Merlin laughed. “Mother? Since when do you call her that?”

Arthur opened and closed his mouth a few times, then hid the embarrassment with anger. He pushed Merlin and hit his shoulder. “Since you don’t come back and keep me sick with worry!”

Merlin couldn’t help but laughing again. “Well, I’ll try to be a better husband in future. I swear I wasn’t being unfaithful.”

“You _idiot_ , I’m being serious!”

“So am I.”

Arthur tried glaring at him a full minute but couldn’t help but be swayed by Merlin’s charm. “C’mere then,” he said and grabbed Merlin’s face for a proper kiss.

Relief washed over Arthur like a tidal wave and he let himself be pulled under. He held onto Merlin as if for dear life and didn’t want to resurface even for a breath of air.

“Gods,” Merlin gasped. “You’ve never lost anybody have you?”

“What?” Arthur looked up from Merlin’s swollen lips.

“N-nothing.”

“So are you going to tell me what happened?” Arthur rubbed the inside of Merlin’s wrist gently, feeling the steady pulse beneath his thumb.

Merlin scratched the knob of his spine sheepishly. This was the part he’d been dreading: telling everyone how truly pathetic he was, that he wasn’t the invincible scout he came off as.

“I think I might...Well, I called Kilgharrah and he says...” Merlin took a deep breath and said it out in a rush. “I have a stress disorder and I have to avoid seeing this one girl ‘cause apparently she makes me want to kill everything in sight.”

“Oh.”

“Or at least I think that’s how it works.”

Arthur looked away and wouldn’t meet Merlin’s gaze as he said, “Leon thought you might be reliving some traumatic event.” Merlin gasped and Arthur glanced up to see the colour had left his face. He squeezed Merlin’s wrist. “He didn’t tell me what it was though. Nobody will. Gaius seems to have everyone convinced you should tell me yourself. That, and he thought mentioning it would trigger another episode.” Arthur frowned. “I haven’t—you feel fine, right? Oh gods, please tell me I didn’t just—”

“Arthur,” Merlin stopped him with a slight chuckle. “I’m fine. I can talk about it, I just...I’d rather be high when I do it.”

“So you’ll tell me then?” Arthur forced himself to ask.

Merlin pulled away, suddenly not wanting to be anywhere near Arthur, or anybody. “Maybe,” he said quietly.

Arthur let Merlin have his space. “You should get something to eat.”

“Later. I’m going to stay here a while longer.”

Arthur nodded, understanding. “When you do leave, you should know...everyone is willing to pretend nothing ever happened, if that’s what you want.”

Merlin laughed humourlessly. “They’ll pretend, but they’ll know. And so will I.”

Gaius regarded Merlin an uncomfortable few minutes after checking on him thoroughly. He shifted restlessly under the doctor’s intense gaze. Merlin stayed to himself a whole night before venturing forth into public again. Now, two days after his episode, he had paid a visit to Gaius.

Finally, Gaius stated, “You’re no longer a boy, Merlin. You are far more wise than anyone gives you credit for. I only wish you’d not acted the fool all these years and lived up to your true potential.”

Merlin opened his mouth to reply, but Gaius stopped him with a hand. “Before you say I sound just like your mother, hear me out. I know not all of it was entirely pretence. I know the July Riot was hard for you. No young man should have to be confronted with death that way, or be forced to use his powers to such a horrifying degree. And I can only imagine the emotional drain that must have had on you.”

Merlin swallowed and cast his eyes downward. The July Riot was...difficult. He was surprised and immensely thankful that Arthur wasn’t privy to just how much damage he’d done alone that day. They’d never even brought up the riot. None of the Knights did. It was a black day in their history that nobody wanted to remember. And now they had one more reason to never mention it, but here Gaius was, doing just that.

“But you’ve grown up, Merlin,” Gaius went on. “Whatever reason you had for making yourself into the Mad Scout before, it’s gone. I know you think everyone believes you’re weak now because of your disorder, but that’s not true. They blame themselves for putting so much on a child. You were seventeen and that was asking too high a price. They are amazed you have managed to keep going even this long. You are stronger than you give yourself credit for. Just try to remember that next time things look bleak.”

Merlin chewed his lip thoughtfully. He certainly didn’t _feel_ strong. Powerful, sure, and he could take out a mob of reds no problem. But emotionally? Merlin’s hadn’t had the best of childhoods, and the July Riot definitely didn’t help end it with a bang. There were days when Merlin just wanted to curl in on himself and shut everyone else out.

But according to Kilgharrah, a whole revolution depended on him. He kept himself going with drugs and, of late, Arthur. Now Gaius was praising him when he felt he deserved none of it. He wasn’t even being entirely truthful with the man.

“Arthur is the Son,” Merlin declared suddenly. If he could keep Merlin’s magic a secret, he could keep this.

Gaius became grave and nodded. “I figured as much.”

“You did?” Merlin was astonished.

“His resemblance to Uther is at times...uncanny. He has a way of setting his jaw when he makes up his mind about something, or pushing his brows together when he’s puzzled.” Gaius shrugged, an oddly young gesture on the old man. “He has a ruler’s face. We are lucky that is all he inherited from his father.”

“He’s loyal to the Knights,” Merlin said.

“I know.”

“Do you think I should tell the others? We planned on waiting until the end of a month but—” Merlin stopped at Gaius’s infuriatingly high eyebrow. “You’re going to say I’m a grown man now and should decide for myself, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

Merlin sighed. “I don’t like being an adult.”

“Neither does anyone else.”

There was a knock on the door of Gaius’s room and then Percival’s recognisable voice. “Is he still bonkers?”

Merlin rolled his eyes. Leave it to Perce to be completely insensitive. Though on second thought, it would have felt wrong if the bodyguard treated him any other way. “Get in here, you sack of shit.”

The door slid open and the elder Knights tumbled in. “There’s our Mad Scout,” Elyan smiled and tousled Merlin’s hair in a brotherly manner. Arthur slipped silently in behind them, letting each have their turn welcoming Merlin back to the land of semi-sanity.

“How’re you feeling?” Leon asked.

“Better,” Merlin replied truthfully. “Sorry if I upset any of you.”

Percival and Lance shared a look. “Whoa,” Perce began. “Merlin? Apologising? Are you _sure_ you’re alright?”

Merlin rolled his eyes again. “Alright enough to take you out. I may have been out of it a while but I’m still quick on my feet.”

To prove his point, Merlin jumped out of his seat and tackled Perce to the ground. They wrestled, much to everyone’s amusement, until Leon separated them. They were dangerously close to upsetting multiple piles of books in the old man’s small chambers.

“Okay, that’s enough,” the leader chided. “There’s things we need to discuss before we do anything else tonight. Dinner’s ready in the front room, so let’s move there.”

They relocated to the main atrium and grabbed a bowl of stew from Gwen. Merlin ate like a Tomb dweller and they all laughed at him, happy to have their Mad Scout back. A ball of heavy warmth seemed to swell Arthur’s chest as he looked round at his new family with delight.

“This might be a sore subject for you Merlin, but after the past few days we think it may be a good idea,” Leon started.

Merlin drank down the rest of his stew and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. _Here it comes_ , he thought. “What’s a good idea?”

“We think that...given the circumstances...and you being the youngest of us here...that you should visit your mother for a few days,” Leon said.

Merlin turned on Arthur. “What did you tell them?” He glared viciously. Arthur raised his palms defensively.

“Arthur just expressed a concern,” Gwen spoke for him. “The rest was completely on us.”

“I wasn’t myself,” Merlin declared, standing up. “I wasn’t...I said a lot of things that didn’t make sense. You can’t come up with ideas just because of what someone says when they’re—”

“Merlin, sit down,” Leon ordered.

“I’d rather stand, thanks.”

“Why are you behaving like this? I’m giving you a few days to go home and visit your mother before you may never see her again. This is hardly the warranted reaction.”

“ _This_ is my home now. And I will see my mother again, but not now. I’m not leaving you all by yourselves.” Merlin bit his tongue. He hadn’t meant to say that part.

Percival laughed bitterly. “That’s why you won’t go? Here I thought it was because you were ashamed of wanting to see your dear old mum before you possibly die a martyr, but it’s because you think you’re protecting _us_? We got on without you before, we can get on without you again for a few days.”

“What the hell did you say, Arthur?” Merlin turned on him. “Why do they think I’m scared of dying without seeing my mum?”

“I just asked if they knew where she lived,” Arthur replied. “I didn’t—I didn’t tell them anything else.”

Merlin ground his teeth but was inwardly thankful Arthur hadn’t given away his moment of weakness. There’d been quite enough of that. He looked back to address Percival. “You weren’t in the middle of a revolution before, now were you?” he spat. “You need me, now more than ever. I _can’t_ leave. And I don’t want to. I ran away for a reason.”

There was utter silence while they pondered Merlin’s words. Merlin wasn’t sure he believed them himself. The truth was that if he left, who would be around to make sure Arthur didn’t accidentally give away valuable information? He trusted that Arthur would try his best, but the boy could only do so much on his own.

“I’ll go with you,” Arthur offered suddenly. “I know that’s why you really don’t want to go, after all,” he added with a smirk.

The way Arthur said it suggested it was purely a romantic reason, and Merlin didn’t know whether to throw his shoe at him or be grateful. If he could take Arthur with him, that would solve the main issue.

“I think that’s a great idea,” Lance said.

“Yeah, well, you would,” Merlin tossed back. “And you’d probably slip flavoured condoms in my bags while you’re at it.”

“This is true,” Lance admitted with a wry grin, and the table laughed. “But believe me, when things start to get intense, we won’t have time to let you kids go on holiday like this. Even if you don’t go visit your mum, take the opportunity to have some fun before everything gets too serious. In the meantime we’ll finish the preparations.”

Arthur kicked Merlin’s shin. “Come on, Merlin. You only live once.”

Merlin made a noncommittal noise and shifted on his feet.

“Stop being a twat and let’s go get packed,” Arthur smiled, seeing he’d already won.

“Alright, fine. Fine! But no more than three days.”

“I’ll go get the condoms,” Lance said, getting up.

Merlin groaned into his palm. “Oh my gods.”

There was a night of preparation before they could leave. With the cameras off, Arthur told Merlin how he would contact his sister before departing and Merlin said he would speak with Kilgharrah. The fact that Morgana knew about their relationship—the physical bit anyways—wasn’t news to Merlin, but that Morgana was okay with it was.

“Maybe we won’t have to kill her after all,” Merlin remarked. “In fact I think I rather like her. When we take over and move into the tower, can she be our servant?”

Arthur looked horrified before erupting into laughter, but Merlin remained serious. “That wasn’t a joke,” he said. Seeing how it troubled Arthur, Merlin put an arm around his shoulders. “Never mind. We’ll talk about that later. Now, how will you convince her to let you take the lenses out?”

After a heated debate with Gaius, they settled on a plan Arthur thought rather ingenious. The night before they were due to leave, they were given off to buy anything they might need for the trip. Gwen gave Merlin a hundred coins for new clothes, insisting that it was important his mother see him at his best. Knowing Merlin, he was going to spend it on drugs instead, but Arthur didn’t say anything about that to her.

While Merlin was supposedly buying new threads, Arthur walked down the more crowded streets of Camelot. He spoke into the microphone on his thumb ring, “Send one of your child spies or come here yourself, Morgana, but I need to speak with you.” Ten minutes later, a familiar black hovercar pulled up next to him and he got in.

“Please, dear brother, explain to me why you volunteered to leave the centre of operations when you know that’s exactly where we need you,” she said without greeting. “And right when we’ve identified a point of weakness.”

“Because I want to,” Arthur replied truthfully, ignoring Morgana’s reference to Merlin’s PTSD. “And before you tell me it doesn’t matter what I want, let me point out that you’re not the one under constant stress from being undercover all the time. If I want to get away from the city for a few days, that’s up to me.”

Morgana looked at him thoughtfully. “You’re so stubborn, you know that? This is just like when you were younger and wouldn’t quit going to the forest until Father practically locked you up. Now, I happen to agree with you. I think a three-day break would be good, especially since you’ve never really been out of the city before. But our father however...to him you’re just a tool. He would argue that it’s _not_ up to you.”

“But because you’re my sister and you care about me, you’re not going to let him know, right?” Arthur quipped with a smile.

“Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

In a moment of forgotten boundaries, Arthur jumped across the seat and hugged her. The last time they’d shared anything close to such a familial embrace was years ago.

“Thank you, Morgana.” Arthur returned to his seat facing her and ignored her stunned expression. “And I have the perfect plan for how to keep an eye on things while I’m gone. This way you won’t be subject to anything Merlin and I get up to and the information flow won’t be interrupted.”

“Um.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and leaned back to smirk at her. “It was a hug, Morgana. I _am_ capable of affection, you know. Get over it.”

“I know that,” she snapped, regaining herself. “It’s just...not like you. What’s your plan then?”

“The old man, Gaius? While he’s sleeping I’ll put the contacts in his eyes. Now, obviously I won’t be able to keep the ring on him, so the audio won’t match up with the video, but—”

“And just how deep of a sleeper do you think this man is?” Morgana questioned.

“Fine, if it makes you feel better, I’ll drug him. But either way, it’ll get done.”

“And when you return from visiting the Mad Scout’s mother? You’ll drug him again to get them back?”

“Naturally.” Arthur shrugged.

“Alright. Yes, alright, that’ll work. What were you saying about the ring?”

“I’ll have to hide it. I’ll secure it underneath the round table where they usually meet so you’ll have a better chance of picking up something important. The only foreseeable problem is that you’ll have to endure watching an elderly man use the toilet because I won’t be able to turn—”

“The things I do for you! And I get nothing in return.” Morgana threw up her arms dramatically.

Arthur frowned. He’d never really thought his sister could want anything. “What do you want then, Morgana?”

Morgana smiled sadly, and Arthur had learned enough of body language over the past couple weeks to know she was harbouring a secret. “I’m getting on towards thirty, Arthur. What do you think I want?”

“To be free of our father, for one.”

“That would be a start.”

Outside, the sign “Freya’s” in neon lights passed by. Arthur looked out the window and laughed as he saw Merlin yelling and pointing his finger at some bloke two times bigger than him. The man stepped into Merlin’s personal space threateningly, but Merlin gave him that wicked smile of his and the next thing out of his mouth must have been his name because suddenly the man was running away in fear. Arthur laughed so hard he had to hold his stomach. Then they were passing other shops and Arthur turned back to look at Morgana.

“You like him, don’t you?” she asked, head tilted sideways.

“No.” Arthur ran a hand through his hair and avoided her gaze. “Maybe.”

“Well shit, Arthur.”

“I know, okay? But it’s not like I could help it!”

“You know this isn’t going to end well. You’re both going to get hurt,” she warned.

Arthur fought the urge to say otherwise, instead replying with, “I know what I’m doing, alright?”

“I certainly hope you do. Because you know we’ll have to kill him. We’ll have to kill them all in the end.”

“Well that was no fun,” Merlin whined when the bloke was out of sight. “You said I’d get to break his nose.”

Freya’s responding giggle was like chiming bells. “I didn’t make any promises.”

Merlin smiled and turned to face her. A few of the dancers had come out to watch as well and started applauding. Merlin bowed dramatically.

“Thank you, Merlin, we love you!” They chorused and blew him kisses in unison.

Merlin blushed deeply. “Anything for a friend,” he said and made a show of kissing Freya’s knuckles like he had before.

Freya turned bright pink and the girls cooed. “Merlin, stop giving them ideas!” She chided good-naturedly. “And girls, you know Merlin’s not interested. Don’t encourage him.” But she was laughing as hard as they all were.

The dancers went back inside and left the two of them on the pavement. “Thank you again for the help, Merlin,” Freya said.

“It was no problem. I really am disappointed he didn’t make it worth my while.” They shared another laugh but then Merlin became serious. “There’s another reason why I’m here though.”

Seeing the change in Merlin’s demeanour, Freya frowned. “Is something the matter?”

Merlin shook his head. “No. Well, I hope not. Leon wants me to visit my mum back home before things get...well, before they get dangerous I suppose.”

“More dangerous than they are now?”

“It’s going to be a full-blown revolution, Frey.” Merlin clasped her hands tight in his own. “I think maybe...I think maybe there might be another riot on the way. Maybe something even bigger.”

“Something bigger?”

“Yes.”

“But Merlin, the...the July Riot was...”

“I know, Freya. And maybe some of the alley dwellers are right. Maybe I am blinded by hatred and anger sometimes, and I know can lose my temper, but with Arthur—I think I can do it with Arthur.”

Freya smiled wryly. “You did have time for romance then.”

Merlin chuckled. “Not really. It sort of just happened.”

“I’m glad, Merlin. You deserve any happiness that comes your way.”

“Listen. I’m going to visit my mum for a few days. Besides dealing with that brute,” Merlin waved behind him, “I came to tell you that when I think of Camelot and my real home with the Knights, the first person—the _first_ person—I think of, is you. You were my first real friend here. You saved me. You’re like the sister I always wanted, Frey.”

Freya’s eyes began to water and she got choked up. “Oh, Merlin—”

“You knew me before I became the Mad Scout. Before I lost my mind. If whatever happens in the next few months—if I die—”

“Merlin, don’t talk like that!”

“Just don’t forget who I was, alright? I don’t want you to remember me as the bad guy.” Her tears spilled over and Merlin swore. “Shit. I didn’t mean for you to start crying—Oh! Ow, okay, hugging is okay, I guess.”

She buried her face in Merlin’s chest and squeezed him so hard he could barely breathe. “You didn’t lose your mind, Merlin,” she reassured him, voice muffled by Merlin’s shirt. “You’re just...a bit of a sociopath sometimes. But I can understand, at least a little. Sometimes when boys—just children that were sent out to fight in wars—come back, what they’ve seen changes them. This is no different, Merlin.”

“So you don’t think I’m a...a freak?” Merlin swallowed the lump in his throat. She had no idea about his disorder and he didn’t want to tell her. At least not yet.

Freya let him go and lifted her eyes to stare up at him, appalled. “ _What_? Of course I don’t think that. I think exactly what you said when you first told me you wanted to join the Knights: I think you’re special.”

Merlin breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. “I told you so. Do you think what Gwaine said is right? Am I the best Knight of all yet?” That was the real reason he’d altered his persona in the first place, after all.

“Don’t let it go to your head. If you were the best, you’d be in charge by now,” she teased. “But I think you’re on your way. You’re definitely the most infamous.”

He was glad they were back on familiar, teasing territory. He didn’t like emotional conversations, and now that he’d said what he came here to say, he was ready to leave.

“Please, Frey. I could be in charge if I really wanted to, I’m just not interested. Too much work being the leader, to be honest.”

“I’m sure that’s it,” she replied sceptically.

Merlin was about to reply when a voice in his earpiece called his name. “Merlin? What did Kilgharrah say about you taking off?” It was Leon.

“I’ve got to go, Freya.” Merlin tapped his headset. “But this isn’t over. I’ll prove I’m leader material, just you wait and see.”

He gave her another quick hug and peck on the cheek before turning around and unmuting his mic. “He said it was okay. He’s got to put ‘finishing touches’ on his next move. I think he’s planning on starting another riot.”

“With winter practically on the doorstep? Does he realise how bad of an idea that is? Not to mention that’s the last thing we need.” Merlin was grateful that was all he said and not what else another riot implied.

“I don’t know.” Merlin shrugged, then remembered Leon couldn’t see him. “But maybe it’s about time we had one. People are getting restless for change. It’s been years. I agree with you on the whole weather bit though. Maybe that’s why he’s trying to hurry it along, get it out of the way before the cold sets in.”

Merlin hoped there _would_ be another riot. He felt completely in his element in the midst of battle, even if just years before he had been a stranger to it. His body needed the rush that came with defeating an enemy and seeing them fall under his power.

“Don’t worry about it now,” the leader said. “We’ll talk about it when you get back. When does the first airbus leave, by the way?”

Merlin consulted his watch. It was just past two in the morning. “I’ve got a few hours. I’m on my way back now. I know Mother will want a proper goodbye, even if it is just three or four days.”

“She’s made a cake.”

Merlin whistled. “Sweet fuck. What kind?” He picked up his pace.

“Not sure. But you’d better hurry before Percival tries to eat it all.”


	8. Dusk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There are two of you, don’t you see? One that kills, and one that loves.” - _Apocalypse Now_

The airbus had been weird. Merlin hadn’t been inside any kind of automobile for over four years, and when he stepped onto the vehicle, he half expected everyone to run off screaming. He wore a hoodie though, so that may have helped a bit. But the taxi they took from the airbus station at Ealdor to his mum’s house...if the airbus was weird, a confined space shared with a stranger was even more uncomfortable.

As they sped down the road of Merlin’s childhood, Arthur stared out the window with interest. Merlin kept his head down and muttered unintelligibly to himself, avoiding the eyes of the cabbie and catching a view outside. The deeper into the town they went, the more Merlin slipped back into his old, shy self.

When the taxi stopped in front of the house—a narrow structure on the end of a row of similar buildings—Merlin suddenly tensed up and Arthur struggled pulling him out of his seat.

“This was a terrible idea,” Merlin groaned. “I never should have let them talk me into this. Let’s go back before anyone sees us, yeah?”

Arthur tugged on Merlin’s wrist while the cabbie watched amused from the front seat. “We already came all this way, Merlin. We’re going inside whether you want to or not.”

“You can’t make me,” Merlin resisted.

“Look, at least give her the gold and say hello. She’s your mum, Merlin!”

Merlin remembered the locked box of coins in his bag and finally gave in. “Fine,” he said, letting himself be pulled out of the cab. He turned around and looked at the cabbie. “But you stay here a few minutes in case I need to make a quick getaway.”

“Whatever you can afford, mate,” the driver replied with a hoarse chuckle.

However, as soon as Merlin collected his bag from the boot and turned around, Arthur paid the man to take off as soon as possible. Merlin spun angrily on his heels at the sound of whirring machinery.

Not knowing of Arthur’s trick, Merlin muttered curses after the traitorous taxi driver. “Fucking tosser. This is why I run everywhere.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and placed a hand on the small of Merlin’s back to nudge him forward. “Come on, Merlin, quit being so dramatic.”

Walking up to the front door felt like a death march. With each step closer to the door Merlin’s stomach sank and the shadow of the house loomed over him. Arthur’s hand firmly on him kept him from running home though.

 _What will she think?_ Merlin wondered. _That her druggie son has come back to cause more trouble? That I’ve run out of money, or been raped, or threatened, or worse?_ Merlin took off his beanie and shoved it into his coat pocket in an attempt to look more suitable. He wore a black button-down shirt and grey jeans underneath his outerwear, by far the nicest he’d dressed for anything in a while, but he still felt grimy and dirty. Arthur, on the other hand, always looked like some sort of blond god.

They stood on the front step a good thirty seconds before Arthur sighed and knocked himself. In a moment of panic, Merlin turned and tried to run, but Arthur grabbed him by the collar.

“She’s obviously not home,” Merlin pleaded. “We’ll come back another time, like tomorrow, or next year—”

“ _Mer_ lin, we’re doing this today.” Merlin faced the street and struggled against Arthur’s hold on him, like a dog trying to lead its master no matter how tightly the leash round its neck dug into the flesh. Then the sound of a door creaking open caused Arthur to loosen his grip and Merlin fell forward on his knees roughly.

“Hello?” The short woman in the doorframe said. “Can I help you?”

Arthur straightened his spine and gave her his best smile. “Hello Ms Emrys, my name is Arthur Penn. Pleasure to meet you.” He offered his hand and she shook it.

“Is your friend alright?” she asked, looking at the back of the raven-haired man who was getting up and rubbing the earth from his knees and palms.

Arthur glanced over his shoulder at Merlin. “Oh, him? He’s just nervous. It’s been a while since he’s been here and—”

“Oh my gods,” she gasped, raising a hand to her mouth. Merlin turned around and smiled sheepishly at his mum for the first time in nearly five years. “Is that...?”

“Er, hi, Mum,” Merlin greeted her in a small voice.

Arthur bit back a huge grin and waved Merlin over. When the shy boy reached him, he entwined their hands together and gave a gentle squeeze for support. Merlin swallowed audibly at the tense expression on his mother’s face.

Suddenly her eyes grew furious and before Merlin could react she slapped him hard across the face. The loud smack echoed down the empty street.

Merlin, shocked that his mother had hit him when she’d never before had a history of violence, stared agape at the woman. Arthur’s countenance mirrored his confusion. But in the next moment, Merlin’s mum was wrapping her arms around her son and crying into his chest, “Oh, Merlin, darling, how could you leave me like that? Have you any idea how worried I’ve been?”

“Um.”

“Come inside,” she insisted, releasing her hold on him, “and I’ll make you some tea. But my, how you’ve grown! Come in, come in.”

She waved them inside and closed the door quickly behind them, then scampered off to the kitchen. Merlin sat down on the sofa in the parlour, touching his cheek gingerly where it still stung, before giving the place a once-over. It still looked the same as it had years ago.

Arthur still held Merlin’s hand in his own when they sat. He glanced at Merlin, silently asking if he was okay, to which Merlin quietly replied, “I’m fine. I deserved that, I suppose,” and he laughed.

Merlin’s mum returned with a tray of tea and biscuits, and she set it down on the worn table in front of them. “Here you are, boys.”

“Thanks, Mum.”

“Thank you, Ms Emrys.”

“Please, call me Hunith.” She placed herself in the armchair beside them and smiled as they reached for their cups. “Careful, it’s hot,” she warned.

Arthur took a small, bracing sip, but Merlin swallowed a mouthful, not caring that the hot liquid burnt his tongue. He’d forgotten how much he’d missed his mum’s tea. Arthur laughed.

Hunith’s eyes fell to their joined hands and Arthur tried to surreptitiously extricate himself from Merlin’s grip. However, Merlin tightened his hold and gave Arthur a quick pleading look. Arthur placed his cup on the table and shifted uncomfortably.

“Arthur, was it?” Hunith leaned forward in the armchair.

“That’s right Ms—Hunith. Arthur Penn.”

“Hmm. I quite like the sound of that,” she mused. “Merlin Penn.”

Merlin spat out his tea. “Wha— _Mum_! What makes you think I’ll take his name? What makes you think I’m going to marry him at all? It’s not—We’re not—”

Hunith looked at her son like he should know better. “Oh, Merlin dear, but it’s so obvious how much you care for him. And he must be something to hold onto if he’s okay with your m—”

“Mum!” Merlin shook his head violently.

Arthur, who had turned deep red at hearing Merlin’s name appended with his—albeit fake—surname, regained interest. “Okay with what?”

“Nothing,” Merlin said quickly.

Arthur frowned and looked between the two Emryses. She didn’t know about the PTSD, surely. “Is it about the heroin? I already know about that.”

Hunith gasped and suddenly got to her feet. She stood looming above them like a giant though she was no more than 150 centimetres tall. “Merlin Gregory Emrys, tell me you have not been doing heroin!”

Merlin scrambled to his feet and positioned himself safely behind the sofa. “I-I haven’t been doing heroin. I’ve stopped. Three nights ago was the last time. Promise.”

Arthur gaped and turned to look at his lover. “Three nights ago? But that was—”

“Shut. Up. You’re not helping.” Merlin gave Arthur a death glare.

“You have no idea how disappointed I am in you, Merlin,” Hunith continued. “I thought for sure you’d cleaned up. You come here looking healthy, and well-dressed, and with a handsome boyfriend...and then I have to find out you’ve only gotten worse?” She started to lose some of her intimidating essence and shrunk back to normal size. Her voice began to shake. “Where did I go wrong, Merlin? I know not having a father was difficult, but I tried my best. I did.”

“What? Mum, no, that’s not—it was—” But what could he say with Arthur there? He couldn’t come right out and tell her it was because of his magic that he grew up a freak, or that the July Riot ruined him. Seeing she had calmed down a bit, he walked around the sofa and tried to comfort her. “Look, let’s just go up to my room and talk alone for a bit, yeah? You have kept it the same, haven’t you? We can sit and I’ll tell you everything.”

Hunith pressed her lips into a tight line and some of her anger flared back up. “What’s all this about talking alone? It’s one thing to keep secrets from your mum—some things I’d rather not know. But from him?” She gestured to Arthur. “Look at him, Merlin. He loves you. And he’s trying his best to understand. You owe him the truth.”

“Er...” Arthur fidgeted in his seat on the sofa.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Merlin replied. “He’s the—He’s—dammit!” Merlin stomped his foot in frustration.

Arthur suddenly went from uncomfortable to furious and he stood as well. “Wait, is this about who my father is?” He demanded. “I thought we were past that. I’ve told you everything there is to know about me and you’re still holding back because of _that_?”

“I’ve got trust issues, okay? You would too if you’ve been through what I have,” Merlin explained defensively.

“And just what have you been through, Merlin?” Hunith asked. “Besides those boys being horrible to you as a child, what have you endured to make you so guarded? What have you been doing these past five years?”

Both boys fell silent. On that point alone they had come to an agreement. _Don’t tell my mum what I’ve done. Don’t tell my mum I’m a killer._

“Well?” Hunith urged.

Merlin gave up. It all seemed so pointless hiding it from Arthur now anyways. Sooner or later he would have to find out.

With a wave of his hand, Merlin directed his bag to levitate between the triangle in which they were standing and unzip itself. Arthur watched with disbelieving eyes as the box of gold left the dark confines of the bag and floated over to Hunith. Merlin twitched a finger and with a click it unlocked itself, revealing the shiny coins inside. Hunith put a hand to her mouth in shock and reached out with the other to feel if it was real.

“Merlin, where did you get all this?” she asked.

“I worked for it. I’ve been saving up, I just didn’t know what for. I figured you should have it.” Merlin shrugged and looked at his toes. “I just...wanted to prove I’m not _such_ a terrible son.”

Hunith exhaled and took up the box floating in front of her. “Oh my,” she said, sitting down. “It’s heavy. How much is in here?”

“Almost four thousand.”

“Oh my,” she repeated. “Is this what you meant when you said you’ve been through a lot? Did you...Merlin, where do you work?”

“In the city.”

“Doing what?”

“I help people,” Merlin evaded.

Hunith turned to Arthur, who swallowed thickly. “He _does_ help people. It’s just a rather unorthodox way,” Arthur explained.

“Exactly. I use my magic to help people, and the city pays me. But they don’t know it’s magic,” he appended quickly.

Hunith frowned sceptically, but accepted the explanation. “And you’re giving all of this to me?”

Merlin nodded. “Yes. I want you to have it. It’s yours.”

She closed the box thoughtfully and stood. “Thank you, Merlin. This’ll help a lot. But don’t ever feel like you have to buy my love. I’ve never thought you were a terrible son, not once. I only wished you would come home.” She smiled sadly. “And now you have. I’m going to go put this somewhere safe.”

As soon as Hunith was out of earshot Arthur turned on Merlin. “What the fuck, Merlin. Magic? That nonsense exists?”

“It’s not nonsense,” Merlin disagreed automatically. “It’s who I am. And yes, it exists. For me, anyways. I haven’t met another like me and I don’t think there’s anyone else out there who can do what I do but...” He shrugged. “I’m a bit magic, yeah.”

Arthur stared ahead blankly, letting the information sink in. Everything about Merlin was illogical; of course something ridiculous like _magic_ would exist just for him. Finally, he said, “Well, I suppose that’s just one other thing I don’t understand about you. And nobody else knows?”

Merlin shook his head. “Just my mum and Gaius. And now you.” He reached for Arthur’s hand and, like a reflex, Arthur held it out to be taken. “I didn’t like lying to you. I’ve wanted to tell you for a while. There just hasn’t been a proper time, what with the microphones and cameras, and... At least out here it’s just us.”

Arthur couldn’t really understand, never having had such a large secret, but he understood that Merlin always did things for a reason. Even if the reason made no sense to anyone else.

He grinned and leaned forward into Merlin’s face with a smirk. “So. Gregory, huh?”

Merlin rolled his eyes and shoved Arthur away. “Oh, shut up.”

Arthur chuckled just as Hunith reentered the room. “What’s funny?” she asked, taking her seat.

“Nothing,” Merlin replied. “Just Arthur being insufferable as always.” Arthur just laughed again.

Hunith smiled at their easy relationship. “He took the magic thing well then?”

“As well as might be expected,” Arthur said. “It’s a bit weird and I’ll have to get used to it, but then, Merlin is a bit weird himself and I’ve certainly gotten used to that.” Merlin rolled his eyes again and returned to his sorely neglected tea. It was lukewarm by now.

Hunith leaned forward on the edge of her seat and folded her hands in her lap. “So, when did you first realise you loved Merlin?”

Merlin, thank goodness, was in the process of swallowing this time so didn’t spit out his tea, but he did nearly choke. Arthur, beside him, was taken similarly off guard.

“Um, er...I guess...” He looked to Merlin for help, but Merlin was wide-eyed and just as curious as his mother was. “After the second...no, third time we kissed.” Arthur admitted, blushing. “To be honest, he came on a bit strong.”

Hunith laughed delightedly at that. “My Merlin? But he’s shy as a turtle! Just look at him, he’s trying to disappear now.”

Merlin was, in fact, sinking lower into the cushion, red-faced and embarrassed. He was remembering the hallway incident where he did, actually, come on quite strongly. Not to mention the numerous times he’d touched Arthur—a hand on the knee or the lower back—before then. But he couldn’t help it if he’d become a bit handsy in his descent into madness. At least that’s what he attributed it to. He had simply forgotten conventional social standards because he’d been so out of touch with them for so long.

Arthur looked at Merlin incredulously, then back to Hunith. “Merlin? Shy? You—You’re joking, right?”

“Not in the slightest. Merlin has always been remarkably quiet and withdrawn. He didn’t have any friends here—”

“Mum!”

“Always up in his room reading or out in the forest getting up to trouble.”

That was news to Arthur. Merlin, quiet and withdrawn? That seemed impossible. And all of a sudden his fond childhood memories of his own forest came flooding back and he looked at Merlin in a new light. “Forest?”

Merlin rose out of his seat a little. “Er, yeah. I was a bit of a loner and boys liked to pick on me.” He shrugged. “So I went to the forest.”

Arthur didn’t respond right away, preferring instead to look at Merlin with his new knowledge. Like before, when they’d bathed together and Merlin talked of proper showers, he tried to picture Merlin living in this normal home, going to a normal school. The clothes he wore now were suitably bland, unlike the loose garb that hung off his thin frame back in Camelot. These instead fit his slim build nicely and Arthur could almost imagine Merlin walking the street like an ordinary citizen going about his daily life. Almost.

“I knew it was an act,” he said finally.

“What was?” Hunith asked.

“Nothing,” assured Merlin. He lowered his voice so only Arthur could hear. “I’ll tell you everything later, I promise. There are some things...my mum shouldn’t know.”

Merlin’s voice betrayed his pain near the end and Arthur nodded stiffly. With a gentle squeeze on Merlin’s hand, he silently soothed him, then reached forward to finish off his own tea.

Merlin’s sleep-babble that night was different. Perhaps it was because it had been so long since Merlin had slept in this room, in this bed. Whatever the cause, Arthur picked up more than nonsensical bits and pieces.

“Stop...no... _laughing_ at me...stop,” Merlin muttered.

He’d been sleeping peacefully—as peacefully as he could anyways—when suddenly his body began twitching and his mumbling began to get louder. Arthur rubbed his shoulders and tried to calmly shush him, but no luck.

“Hurts...hurts, stop,” he continued. “No...no no no no no...please...kill...all...you...”

“Merlin. Merlin, shh, it’s alright Merlin, it’s just a dream,” Arthur whispered softly.

That’s when the screaming began.

Every muscle in Merlin’s body tensed and his back arched unnaturally. He screamed no words, just howled in pain unceasingly. It was a terrible, soul-piercing scream that would haunt Arthur’s ears for the rest of his life. And Arthur had thought the screaming from Merlin’s episode had been bad.

Only eight seconds through did Merlin wake up. His eyes snapped wide open but still his mouth poured forth the tremendous noise and his hands clutched at the air in front of him. When it was finally over and the echo died out, he breathed heavily and pulled his legs up to his chest, wrapped his arms around himself and began to sob. At the first touch of Arthur’s hand to his back he flinched and pulled away, but a second later he remembered where he was and who he was with, and flung his body into Arthur’s arms. His sobs were muffled by Arthur’s chest.

The sound of hurried footsteps preceded the door opening and Hunith came in, hair awry and face distorted with worry. If hearing Merlin’s cries of agony had disturbed Arthur, he could only imagine what it did to Merlin’s mother.

“What happened?” she demanded.

“He’s had a nightmare,” Arthur explained over Merlin’s weeping. “He gets them sometimes. He’ll be fine. It’s nothing to worry about. Just a nightmare.” He repeated it for Merlin’s sake as well as he rocked the scout back and forth in his arms. Merlin tightened his hold around Arthur’s torso and buried his face in his chest.

“Are you sure?” Hunith asked, taking a hesitant step forward. “Does this...happen often?” The calm way in which Arthur was dealing with it certainly made it seem so, though internally he was just as shaken.

“Rarely,” Arthur admitted. “This is only the third time he’s woken up screaming since I’ve known him but...it’s fine. He’ll be fine. Go back to bed. Everything will be alright by morning.”

Hunith still looked unsure. For years she hadn’t been able to hold her child in the possessive way this young man was now, and if she was going to be honest with herself, she was a bit envious. But Merlin had always shied away from her motherly embraces and she was frankly shocked, yet moved, that he allowed Arthur to comfort him this way. Her son had never liked showing weakness.

That was the deciding factor. Merlin was probably terribly embarrassed at having her witness this. Even now he was trying to stifle his cries and pull himself together. So Hunith nodded and left, allowing her son and his lover some space to deal with the situation on their own.

Arthur rubbed Merlin’s back and stroked his hair gently until finally the cries turned into occasional sniffles. Merlin moved his head from Arthur’s chest to his shoulder and said in a small voice, “Thank you.”

“Oh shut up, Merlin, I’m only doing this so you’ll be quiet and maybe I can get some sleep.”

Merlin half-chuckled in appreciation. He was glad Arthur wasn’t going to make a big deal out of this. Arthur had gotten to know him so incredibly well in the near-month he’d been with the Knights. It felt like they’d known each other for years.

When Merlin’s breathing finally calmed, Arthur lay back. Merlin pillowed his head just above Arthur’s right nipple and draped a slim leg over Arthur’s waist. He loved that they fit together like puzzle pieces.

Merlin woke slowly. He faded into consciousness until eventually he opened his eyes and saw Arthur’s sleeping face in front of him. He traced the contours of Arthur’s jaw, let his eyes wander to the pouting lips and the rough dots of facial hair that had snuck onto the upper lip over the past couple days.

Then his gaze fell on the pillow behind Arthur’s head. More specifically, the pillowcase. It was a simple blue and white striped pattern, but the memories it brought back were painfully staggering. How many times had Merlin cried into the worn fabric, had hidden bags of weed inside?

He remembered his dream from last night all too clearly. He’d been running, (he was always running, even in his dreams) when suddenly he tripped. He never tripped, never in real life, but it did sometimes happen in sleep. This time when he fell and scraped his knee on the pavement, a circle of shadows surrounded him, and when he looked up he saw the faces of his childhood tormentors. He’d forgotten their names over the years, had never really paid attention to what they were called even back then, but he recollected too well now.

Jack, the tallest though not the strongest of them, was grinning down at him. This was the grin Merlin had modelled his own mad smile after, and it still frightened him. There were all sorts of evil intentions behind that face.

“Been awhile, hasn’t it, Merlin?” said Jack. “Still a little cocksucker? Still a skinny little _freak_ , Merlin?”

Freddie, the biggest and by far the most physically intimidating, delivered a swift kick to Merlin’s side, and Merlin doubled over in pain. “He asked you a question, freak.” The four of them laughed and Merlin clenched his fists in anger.

Still, Merlin remained silent. “Well, you’re clearly still too daft to speak much, aren’t ya? Pity. I was hoping to see whether or not yer voice has changed, but then, we don’t have lots to think back on for reference, do we boys?” Jack consulted his loyal mates, who promptly agreed. “Let’s see if we can get him to talk, shall we? What d’you say, Freddie? Think he just needs a bit of encouragement?”

That’s when the beating had begun. It was all fists and feet and Merlin could do nothing but curl in on himself and take it like he always had. He hadn’t even realised he’d begun to beg until he woke up screaming and the dream shot through his memory like a whiplash. The pain went much deeper than skin. Merlin hadn’t felt so powerless in years. Being in this house, this room, was like poison. His body remembered nights spent crying on this bed and his weakened state of mind wasn’t as strong as it used to be.

“Merlin?” Arthur was awake now and his brow furrowed at the tears silently falling from the corners of Merlin’s eyes. “What’s wrong, Merlin?”

Merlin buried his face in Arthur’s chest. He wanted to go home. He wanted to get high and forget ever coming back here, forget his childhood all over again. Being haunted by corpses seemed a better alternative than this. He could handle corpses. He couldn’t handle confronting his weaknesses.

But that’s what he would be if he asked to go home, and it was bad enough he’d had to have Arthur soothe him back into sleep the night before. He would try to be strong for now. At least until he could go somewhere to blaze up.

“Nothing,” Merlin said, raising his head and wiping his tears. “Let’s go get breakfast, yeah? I’m starving and my mum makes actual food.”

Arthur wanted to press for the truth but he decided against it. It was too early in the morning for serious discussions, and Arthur _was_ hungry. He nodded and they got out of bed to dress.

Hunith was already up cooking toast and eggs. Merlin immediately perked up at the sight and plopped down into a chair just as his mum scooped a good helping of eggs onto a plate. She gave him a curious look, searching for remnants of last night’s nightmare, but, finding none, she left it and continued to make Arthur’s plate. He nodded his thanks and dug in.

“You boys eat like you haven’t had anything for months,” she chided at their smacking lips. But she said it in good humour.

“Sorry Ms Em—Hunith,” Arthur apologised for the both of them, since it seemed Merlin wasn’t going to. “It’s hard to get good food like this in the city.”

Merlin snorted and rolled his eyes. As if Arthur had actually had to work for a decent meal a day in his life before joining the Knights. He’d only been with them a little over three weeks. He had no idea what it was like to _really_ starve.

Arthur kicked Merlin’s shin under the table, making Merlin yelp. He looked in shock at the snickering blond only a moment before waving a hand and sending the knives in the knife block to land tip down between each of Arthur’s fingers. That shut Arthur up. Merlin tried not to smirk too hard as he took another bite.

Arthur’s heart skipped a beat and he had to remember how to breathe. He’d forgotten all about Merlin’s magic.

“Merlin Gregory Emrys, are you mad?!” Hunith screeched, and Merlin flinched at the use of his full name yet again, while Arthur flinched at her easy use of the word mad. She trotted over and took the blades out of the table one by one. “Unless you’d like to buy another table and sharpen these knives, you will _not_ be doing any such thing again, is that understood?”

Merlin groaned. “Yes, Mum. But he was asking for it, kicking my shin.”

“He most certainly was not. You could have killed him.”

“I’ll have you know, I have impeccable aim.”

“Merlin, you couldn’t shoot straight if your life depended on it.”

Merlin opened his mouth to disagree, seeing as how he’d gone through an extensive amount of gun training in addition to physical combat, but this was his mum he was talking to and he definitely did not want her finding out about his activities.

“My magic always hits the target,” he declared instead. It was true, after all.

“Either way, this table is old and has sentimental _value_ , so if you please, no more holes in the wood,” she insisted.

Merlin rolled his eyes and swatted Arthur’s hand away to place his own over the tiny slits. His eyes glowed golden a moment and when he pulled his hand back, the wood was as seamless as before.

“Satisfied?” he asked with a sarcastic eyebrow. Hunith just shook her head and went to scrub dishes before egg could get caked on.

Merlin looked back at Arthur's dazed expression and gave him a sly wink. Arthur recovered his wits just enough to roll his eyes and return to his breakfast.

"I'm working until five tonight, so you'll have to entertain yourselves," Hunith said as she dried the dishes. "If you’d given me some notice I might have been able to get time off. Anyway, if you do go out, be sure to bring back milk and eggs. Oh, and chocolate. About three bars should do."

"Mum, please don't do this. You don't have to do this," Merlin groaned, knowing what his mother was planning already.

Arthur was the only one left in the dark. "Do what?"

Hunith turned around with a bright smile on her face and Arthur suddenly saw Merlin's resemblance. "I'm going to bake a cake. The best Merlin's ever had."

Merlin groaned again, this time rather dramatically. "But why? There's no reason—"

"Oh yes there is! I haven't celebrated a single birthday with you for the past five years. Do you know every twenty-third of June I'm practically beside myself with worry? Not that I didn't worry every day, but particularly on your birthday." She looked angry and hurt.

"Fine." Merlin let his mother guilt trip him and she smiled triumphantly. "But no singing. And no candles. Or balloons." Hunith's frown deepened with each restriction. "I mean it, Mum."

"Yes, yes, alright," she waved. She bustled over to Merlin and pecked his cheek. "I've got to go get dressed for work. Oh, but your face is so rough now!" Her eyes began to sparkle with proud tears. "You left a boy and have come back quite the man, haven't you?"

"Oh my gods, Mum, go to work already!" Merlin complained with a flush of colour over his cheeks. Arthur just sat laughing at the exchange, silently wishing he'd had someone to fawn over him like that when he was younger.

As she left up the stairs, Merlin gulped down the rest of his drink and rose to put his plate in the sink. Arthur followed him and trapped him with his arms when he turned around.

"If it's any consolation," Arthur said into Merlin's parted lips, "I like it a bit rough."

Merlin's breathy chuckle tickled Arthur's skin and he closed the distance briefly before pulling back and rubbing his own stubbled cheek against Merlin's.

"That much was obvious from the first time we kissed," Merlin whispered into Arthur's ear before teasing the lobe with a flick of his tongue.

A flare of arousal shot through Arthur and his lips curved up as he remembered the hallway incident again: the brutal kisses, the clutching of skin, the sucking of necks. It was a pleasant memory now.

"I've been meaning to ask," Arthur dared, "Why did you do that in the first place? Not that I'm complaining."

Merlin trailed his hand down between their bodies and palmed Arthur's crotch, earning a pleased gasp in response. The fact that his mother was just upstairs didn't seem to bother him at all.

"You're incredibly hot when you're angry," he explained. "Honestly, you're incredibly hot all the time. But you were so close to me then, and I'd been looking for an excuse to touch you. I think I would have sooner or later."

"What does that mean? You would have...raped me? Like you did Leon?"

Merlin laughed outright. "I did not rape Leon. I only sucked him off. The fact that he was sleeping was a coincidence."

A bitter feeling began to coil in Arthur's stomach. "Why Leon?"

"Well, Lance is with Mother, Elyan is Mother's brother, Gaius is like a father to me, and Percival...I figured Percival would be too large—"

"Okay, okay, stop." Arthur shook the image away. "Why at all?"

Merlin shrugged. "I can get a bit horny when I'm high, which I frequently am if you haven’t noticed. And I like to suck." The mad, sinister glint returned to Merlin's eyes. "Would you like to have been raped, Arthur?" Merlin moved his hips forward to bring their groins together, effectively reminding Arthur of the situation at hand.

"I don't think that's how rape works, Merlin. It has to be non-consensual. And I very much consent."

Now Merlin looked positively wicked and he regressed into the Mad Scout for the moment. "Ah, but now that you know I've got magic, we can have all kinds of fun," he said seductively.

Suddenly it was Arthur who was trapped against the sink and Merlin had his hands low on Arthur's waist while his lips attached themselves to Arthur's neck. Arthur instinctively let his head fall back to give Merlin better access to his skin. And Merlin claimed him.

Only thirty seconds passed before they heard the tapping of Hunith's heels on the floor above. They abruptly separated and Merlin slipped unknowingly back into his role of the shy son.

Hunith came down the stairs looking sharp and acutely pretty. Her hair was tied in a bun so tight it pulled her eyes up at the corners and her lipstick was just a little too red. On anyone else it would have looked wrong, but Hunith made it work, especially when she smiled.

"Five o'clock, alright?" she reminded them as she grabbed her purse. "And tomorrow's Sunday so I've got off. Perhaps we can go into town and have brunch."

"Sounds great, Mum."

She eyed the two of them, tense and blushing and much too far apart for lovers. "Well, I'm off then. And Arthur, dear, you might think about wearing something with a collar today." Arthur's hand darted up to his neck. "Goodbye."

As soon as she closed the door behind her, they both exhaled then promptly burst into giggles.

"She's got a keen eye," Arthur stated.

"Suppose that's where I get it from," Merlin replied. "She's right though. There is no way you're leaving the house with that out for the world to see."

"It's your fault for putting it there." Arthur rubbed the spot where Merlin's lips had brought blood to the surface. "Besides, you wouldn't have minded in Camelot."

“But we're not in Camelot. This is Ealdor. Things are different here, mainly because nobody knows how mental I've gone."

"You haven’t gone mental, Merlin. You’re just—"

“Don’t,” Merlin stopped him. He didn’t want to have this conversation, not now. "Let's not talk about it. Weren’t we in the middle of something?" He reeled Arthur in by the fabric of his shirt with a promising smile.

But Arthur pulled away. "No, Merlin. Last night you woke up screaming, this morning you were crying...tell me what's wrong." He grabbed hold of Merlin's shoulders on the side just short of painful. He forced Merlin to look him in the eyes and answer him. “Apart from...you know. I just want to help.”

Merlin wet his lips before answering. "There's a lot of things wrong with me, Arthur. I think I'm broken. Fragmented somehow. There are...times when I don't feel myself..."

"What do you mean? Like how you're so different with Freya, different with me, with the Knights, and now your mum? Which one is really you?"

Merlin tried to breath normally. He could do this.

"That's what I'm trying to tell you, Arthur. I don't know." But Merlin's voice broke on the last word and all his pent up tears spilled out. "It was just—I _was_ shy. I _was_ weak. But then I joined the Knights and I knew I had to change. I had to be more confident even if I didn't know how. Especially since I didn't know how. That much was an act. And then—and then—"

He couldn't finish as a wave of grief attacked him, the faces of those he'd killed at the July Riot flashed through his mind with staggering force. He wept harder than the night before, harder than he ever remembered. He could talk about it with other people, could joke about how the killing didn’t bother him, but admitting his past to Arthur was more painful.

Arthur tried to take Merlin in his arms as he had the previous night, but Merlin jerked away. He slipped out of Arthur's touch as if it burned him and fled up the stairs. The bedroom door slammed behind him and his cries became muffled.

At first Arthur stood bewildered, then hurried to follow his lover. When he opened the door he saw Merlin rummaging through his bag with trembling hands.

"Merlin?" Arthur approached cautiously. Merlin found what he was looking for and upon seeing the familiar green plant Arthur lunged forward.

"Get away from me!" With a sweep of his arm Merlin launched Arthur across the room. Arthur's back hit the opposite wall and the breath was expelled from his lungs painfully. "Leave me alone."

Arthur slid to the floor in a boneless heap. He weakly pulled himself up, fixing his eyes on Merlin from under fluttering lashes. "Merlin," he croaked. "Please."

Merlin retrieved his bowl and shook his head. "No. I can't—I need—I need to forget. You can't ask this of me."

He pressed the bagged weed to his nose and inhaled. The way he closed his eyes and held it tight like it was a precious artefact turned Arthur’s stomach. Arthur took a deep breath and straightened himself. Not for the first time, he tread with caution. This was the dangerous Merlin that had surfaced any time he felt threatened. This was similar to a Merlin about to have an episode.

"Merlin," Arthur began again. “I'll—I'll do it with you. We'll both get high and forget everything together, yeah?"

Merlin's neck swivelled around at that. "Are you...Arthur, you haven't smoked a day in your life."

 Part of Merlin didn't want Arthur to dive into the world of drugs. Arthur was pure, Arthur hadn't killed anyone, Arthur didn't have nightmares about corpses. But the other part of Merlin couldn't deny wanting to share this with Arthur.

"Alright," Merlin relented. Arthur visibly relaxed. "But not here. I can't...my mum would smell it right away. I can't disappoint her again."

Arthur nodded. "To the forest then."

"Aye." Merlin grinned through his tears. "To the forest."

Arthur hadn't been out in nature for a while. It was much more green than he remembered, but then he'd never been to the woods of a small town like Ealdor. The trees here were wilder and the ground softer. There were times when the canopy completely blocked out the sun and they walked in a world tinted green.

It was like a fairy-tale forest. Branches hung low and threatened to grab at them. Merlin preferred to travel above, swinging expertly from tree limb to tree limb like some sort of albino monkey. He used magic to move any troublesome branches out of the way for Arthur on the forest floor below.

"How much farther?" Arthur asked after the shrill whistling of a bird startled him.

Merlin jumped down and appeared next to him. "We're here."

Merlin reached out and moved a curtain of leaves out of the way to reveal a small clearing. The grass was soft and unruly and it was nothing like Arthur’s old meadow. The trees that formed a ring around the area were warped and bent out of their original shape. It was clearly the work of some unnatural force. The place was entirely Merlin's.

"Just how I left it," Merlin whispered dreamily. He looked at his old fort fondly.

Arthur stepped forward, mostly to show his initiative. "Well, let's do it then," he nudged.

Merlin looked Arthur up and down quizzically a moment before nodding and going forward. He plopped down on the grass and pulled the materials out of his pocket. He packed the weed tightly in the bowl and brought the mouthpiece to his lips.

"No lighter?" Arthur questioned.

"Not when you've got magic." Merlin wiggled his fingers. His eyes flashed as his little finger twitched and a spark ignited the waiting herb. He inhaled deeply and quickly passed it to Arthur while it still burned. He held his breath to let the smoke penetrate him as he watched Arthur attempt his first hit.

The smoke rushed into Arthur’s mouth and scorched his throat. He coughed immediately and wiped prickly tears from his eyes.

Merlin laughed and took the bowl from his inexperienced lover. "We'll shotgun," he suggested. "I'll blow the smoke into your mouth while you inhale. It's easier that way."

Usually Arthur would scoff at being patronised but this was one thing he was willing to budge on. He nodded, not trusting his voice to work while his throat was still raw.

Merlin inhaled again, longer this time, then waved Arthur to lean in closer. They brought their lips together as if in a kiss, only they didn't completely close the distance. Merlin puckered his mouth and exhaled slowly, sending the white smoke between Arthur's parted lips.

It was like a gust of air went straight to his brain. Arthur felt light-headed and giddy and he had a sudden impulse to get up to something troublesome. After a few more hits, he swayed until he fell back onto the grass.

Merlin kept going, as it took him a bit more to reach the full effect. Finally he lay back and let the world spin around him.

"This is..." Arthur didn't have words for it. "I feel like I can do anything."

Merlin laughed and the sound reverberated around them, dancing in the wind. "Yeah. I'm flying," he said and turned to Arthur. "Are you flying with me?"

Arthur took what felt like hours to reply. He'd actually forgotten Merlin had asked anything until the question rang through his head again.

_Are you_

_flying_

_with me?_

He took Merlin's hand in his own and it felt like an anchor tying him to safety. "I'm flying with you," he said quietly, but it was like a shout to their intoxicated ears.

Merlin smiled. "Good."

They floated for an hour. Merlin made shapes out of the clouds—something he hadn't done in years since the city was filled with smog—and he made leaves dance in the air. It was much better than the city. There was so much more space and fresh air and freedom. Arthur experienced similar nostalgia.

But he didn't forget why he'd come in the first place. He simply let himself enjoy the high for a while before dragging out the question again.

“Hey Merlin?”

“Yeah?”

“About earlier—”

“How do you think the clouds stay up?”

Arthur blinked. “What?”

“The clouds. Why don’t they fall down?” Merlin asked again.

“I...I don’t know. You make them stay up?”

“I do?” Merlin frowned.

“I dunno. It must be you. And your magic. I mean, your magic must be keeping them afloat.”

“Then who kept them up before I was born?”

“Your father. I dunno. Someone. Maybe that cabbie that brought us here.”

Wait, Arthur had been trying to say something. What had he been trying to say before?

“Some of them look so heavy. Like white blocks of chalk. Or porcelain. But I’m pretty sure chalk is heavier,” Merlin drawled.

“Nnnnng.” Dammit, what was it?

“Oh. Were you going to say something?” Merlin asked, turning to Arthur.

“Um...” Arthur drew a blank.

“Listen. About what happened before. I didn’t mean to throw you across the room like that. I freaked out. Sorry.” Merlin stroked the back of Arthur’s hand with his thumb. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

That sparked Arthur’s memory. “You didn’t,” he said. “Well, you did, but it didn’t hurt for that long. Just knocked the wind out o’ me.”

“Sorry.”

Arthur waved it off. “When we were in the kitchen, you’d been about to tell me something. You said you had to change when you joined the Knights ‘cause you were so shy. Still can’t imagine you like that, by the way. But then you sort of broke down.”

Merlin narrowed his eyes. “This was part of your plan all along, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Arthur replied without the sense to lie.

“That was...very sneaky of you.” There was a hint of admiration in his voice, surprisingly.

“Well, considering you have ‘trust issues’ I figured this was the only way to open you up.”

“bLAH bLAH bLAH, that’s all I’m hearing,” Merlin drawled. “Whoa! Spinny!” he exclaimed as the world turned.

At hearing the word “spinny,” Arthur indeed felt the ground sort of tilt. He squeezed Merlin’s hands to anchor himself.

“ _Mer_ lin,” Arthur groaned. “I’m trying to know you and you’re not making it easy.”

Merlin yawned and closed his eyes as a wave of fatigue came over him. “Nobody knows me,” he said wistfully. “‘S part of the image.” He curled up on his side, hand still firmly in Arthur’s, and smelled the earth with a deep inhale.

“That’s why I’m asking, Merlin. I want to know you.”

“Mmm,” Merlin grunted sleepily. “If what Kilgharrah’s planning comes to pass, you’ll find out soon enough.”

Arthur frowned. “What is Kilgharrah planning?”

“‘Nother riot. Probably’ll have to start this one too.”

 _This one too?_ Arthur thought. “What do you mean you’ll have to start this one too? The last riot was...That was the July Riot, Merlin. That was a bloody massacre. And Kilgharrah wants a repeat of that?”

And then it hit Arthur like a sack of bricks to the chest. That was it. _That_ was Merlin’s traumatic event. He wanted to speak, to let Merlin know he’d figured it out, but his intoxicated brain wouldn’t process that fast, and now Merlin was talking again.

“Guess so.” Merlin’s eyes snapped open, suddenly aware of what he’d just let slip. “Fuck!” he yelled. “Sweet buggering _fuck_!” He shuffled to his feet, wrenching free of Arthur’s hand and nearly falling down in the process.

“M-Merlin?”

“ohmygods ohmygods ohmygods,” Merlin muttered to himself as he started walking—more like falling, really—briskly away from Arthur.

Arthur jumped to his feet and chased after him. He was unprepared for the wave of dizziness and promptly fell forward, but picked himself back up quickly. “Merlin, come back!”

“Don’t look at me!” Merlin shouted over his shoulder. He made it to one of his warped trees and sat in the bough. “Oh gods, don’t look at me.” He curled up again and buried his face into his knees.

Arthur jogged over and put a hand out to touch but pulled back at the last second. If Merlin didn’t want to be seen, he probably didn’t want to be touched either.

Arthur settled for kneeling down beside him and speaking softly. “Merlin. It’s okay. I get it, alright?”

Merlin peeked out shyly and took in Arthur’s concerned look. Eventually he sat up with a sigh and fished around in his pocket for his bowl and bag of weed.

“Merlin—”

“Do you want me to tell you or not?” Merlin snapped as he packed the bowl. Arthur swallowed and nodded, realising this was it, the moment he’d asked for.

After Merlin took a few heavy puffs, he relaxed enough to feel painless again. He could recall the memories a little easier.

“As a scout, sometimes I have to go around and cause a little mayhem. I can move freely about like the others can’t. Get in, make trouble, get out,” he began. “So riling people up and starting riots in kind of in the job description. Actually, now that I think about it, I have to do _ev_ erything. I should demand more time off. Though that seems unlikely with things progressing the way they are—”

“Merlin. The point?”

Merlin got back on track. “Right, right. Yeah, I started the July Riot. Yeah, I’ll have to start this one. And I’ll probably end up with someone’s brains on my trainers this time again too.”

Arthur swallowed his gasp, but Merlin didn’t fail to notice. “You’re not that strong,” Arthur tried to make light of it. “You’re a twig. Like you could really crush someone’s skull.”

Merlin took another hit and eyed Arthur seriously. “The same way I can’t punch a hole in a concrete wall,” Merlin pointed out. “Taking on that mob of Prots in the alley was nothing, Arthur. Your father must have shown you the July Riot on the news. You know what the streets looked like.”

Arthur did. He’d seen the damage it had done to their force, how Morgana went around pale with a neutral mask on, how his father took his anger out on his daughter for allowing such a thing to happen. He’d seen also the video coverage of the streets running with blood and the piles of bodies—Prot and citizen alike—that made traffic impossible. The heart of the city had been like a battlefield that day, the bloodiest day in Camelot’s history. Uther had intensified Arthur’s training to ensure his son was capable of handling something like that.

To think that Merlin—shy, soft-spoken, small-town _Merlin_ —had been the cause of all that, the root of his family’s suffering, was like a blow to the stomach.

“Now you see,” Merlin said at the look on Arthur’s face, understanding passing over his features. “Now you know what I’ve done. Why I went mad.”

He looked straight in Arthur’s eye for so long Arthur had to look away. His gaze happened to fall to the bowl still held limply in Merlin’s hand and Merlin allowed Arthur to take it from him, though he gave him a puzzled look.

Arthur put his lips around the mouthpiece and nodded for Merlin to light it. Wordlessly, Merlin’s magic flared and a spark ignited the sweet-smelling drug. Arthur inhaled properly this time and held in the smoke before exhaling. He felt a weight immediately lifted from his shoulders and Merlin raised an eyebrow, impressed.

Arthur handed the bowl back to him and got up from his knees to sit next to Merlin in the bough. “You’re…not doing it again.”

“Doing what?” Merlin tilted his head.

“Starting another riot. I don’t care what Kilgharrah’s got planned. We’re not going to sacrifice dozens of people for this revolution and I’m not putting you through that. Not again. This time we’ll get everyone to safety and take the fight straight to the tower.”

“You want to—straight to the _tower_? You realise that’s suicide, right?”

“Not if we’ve got your magic to protect us,” Arthur pointed out.

“Uh...That means I’ll have to tell everyone. The whole city will know what a freak I am.”

“You’re not a freak,” Arthur replied automatically. Merlin quirked a brow, remembering how Arthur had called him that on only his second day with the Knights.

Arthur continued, heedless of the look Merlin was giving him. “You tell Kilgharrah to sit this one out. I’ll come up with a better plan.”

Merlin eyed Arthur silently a moment then burst into laughter. He was overcome with it and couldn’t stop.

“What?” Arthur asked, beginning to chuckle too. Being high seemed to make laughter contagious.

“It’s just—this is—this is it. This is the moment! It’s happening, right now. You totally just became the leader the prophecies foretell and you did it while you were fucking _stoned_! Ahahaha!” Merlin wiped tears from his eyes and Arthur had to admit it was hilarious. “Oh my gods, that is fucking priceless.”

“Shut up,” Arthur laughed. “You’re ruining the moment. I’m fairly certain this is supposed to be serious.”

“Right. Of course. You’re right.” Merlin attempted to straighten his features but burst into uncontrollable laughter after only a few seconds. “Sorry. Just—just give me a minute.”

After a few minutes, Merlin’s breathless laughter died out, ending with a few spurts of giggles. Arthur took the time to watch the leaves on the trees above swing back and forth in the wind. The light seemed to dance in a way he’d never noticed before. He thought again about how different this forest was from his own.

He was brought back to the present by Merlin’s head on his shoulder. Merlin had yawned again and was now resting his eyes, warming his hands in Arthur’s shirt. Arthur pressed his cheek to the top of Merlin’s head and put an arm around Merlin’s shoulders. He was reminded again by how sensitive Merlin really was.

“It’ll be over soon,” Arthur promised him softly. “When we get back, I’ll talk to the rest of them. Who knows, we might not have to tell them about your magic until we near the very end.”

Merlin rubbed his cold nose into Arthur’s shoulder and made a small mewling noise. “You think?” Though he was unclear of what “the very end” meant.

“I’m going to try my best to make it so.”

“Alright, well. What if I wanted another riot, huh? What then?”

Arthur frowned deeply. “What are you _talking_ about, Merlin? Why would you want that?”

Merlin shrugged out of Arthur’s embrace and looked away. “I dunno. I don’t think about it a lot—I try really fucking hard not to—but when I do, what I remember...it’s like everything fit together. I feel bad about it afterwards but when I’m there...” Merlin shook his head to try and focus. “I like it, I guess. I could say it’s because I’m fighting to bring down the corrupt government or whatever but that’s not entirely it. When I’m not fighting or running or getting high, I just don’t know what to do with myself. Like I don’t have a purpose.” He chanced a glimpse at Arthur, who was frowning and trying to understand. “I’m a terrible person, aren’t I?”

Arthur bit the corner of his mouth in contemplation. “I don’t think you’re...terrible per se. You don’t want to hurt innocent people...Do you?”

“No. But what about after we’ve won? Once there’s no more revolution to fight for, no reason to scout the rooftops, what will I do? Even I don’t want to waste my life stoned out of my mind all the time.”

Arthur couldn’t keep up. How was Merlin making this much sense while he was high? Why did he have to confess when Arthur couldn’t properly retain information?

“You’ll...have me,” Arthur reminded him. “Like that stupid prophecy says, I’ll take my father’s place and rule Camelot justly. And you’ll be right there with me. All the Knights will. Making decisions and keeping things fair.”

“But—”

“Shhhhh,” Arthur put a wobbly finger to Merlin’s lips. “I can’t right now anymore. I’m—I—”

“Have a terribly low tolerance,” Merlin chuckled.

“What you said.”

“I guess we have a little while to talk about it. Now that the hard part’s over I think I can handle it.” Merlin scooted closer and nudged Arthur over. “Budge up. I’m tired.”

With his magic he fashioned a makeshift bed out of the already warped bough and there was room enough for them to stretch out. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but they didn’t particularly notice in their state. Pretty soon Arthur was snoring and Merlin was mumbling incoherently.

In Merlin’s eagerness to get out of the house, he’d forgotten the key his mother had given him. He’d despaired and damned his lack of foresight all of two minutes, then opened the door with magic.

“That could be handy,” Arthur mumbled into Merlin’s neck, wrapped around him from behind. Both he and Merlin were still a little buzzed, too out of it to care if anyone walking by saw them or recognised Merlin.

“Ya,” Merlin drawled, swinging open the door. “I could get into the tower whenever I feel like it. ‘S just the hundreds of laser rifles to get past, ya know?”

They stumbled inside and Merlin navigated them to his room. Without a word he proceeded to strip.

Arthur stood awkwardly, watching and wanting to ask what he was doing.

“They smell,” Merlin explained. He tugged on Arthur’s shirt, silently telling him to remove his clothes also. “I’m gonna shower. Just—” Merlin put a hand up when he saw Arthur open his mouth to suggest they do it together. “I need to be alone right now.”

Arthur set his jaw firmly but nodded. Merlin bundled his clothes and stashed them under the bed until he returned, then padded to the loo naked and shivering.

A hot shower—a _proper_ shower—was heavenly. Merlin pressed his forehead against the tile and let the hot water hit his back. He washed his hair, the feeling of fingers almost surreal in his half-baked state, and kneaded his feet. He started to let himself remember what happened more clearly, but pushed those thoughts away the second he started feeling light-headed, a feeling he didn’t think was because of the weed.

He barely even registered why he scrubbed his right leg the way he did, put so much pressure onto it that it almost hurt. When he had showered with Arthur in the Castle, Arthur’s presence had disrupted his normal routine. Not that Merlin had a routine, but there was always a certain way he had to clean his right calf, even though he didn’t notice that he did it. Even though the spinal fluid and brains and blood had washed off long ago.

Merlin wished he could stay in the shower all day, away from the world and its crushing weight. But eventually the hot water would run out and his mum would come home and Arthur would get worried and he had a revolution to fight, a city to save from a tyrant, and there’d be time to wallow in self-pity after all that, but not before, not now.

Merlin pulled himself together and turned off the water. He pushed the curtain back and stepped out into the cool air, hurrying to dry off and get warm again. He attacked his wet hair with a towel and wrapped it around his waist once he was at least not soaking wet anymore, then braced himself for the rush of cold air when he opened the door.

Arthur gasped when Merlin returned to his room. The shower had done Merlin a world of good, it seemed. His raven hair stuck up in something resembling a bird’s nest, but the way he held himself, straight-backed and confident, lean arm muscles standing out in the sheen of mist that still clung to him, made him almost ethereal. In that short moment Merlin’s shoulders seemed to have broadened, and Arthur’s eyes followed a bead of water as it slid down the smooth pale plane of Merlin’s chest until it was lost to the towel around his waist.

Merlin looked powerful, strong even, and Arthur imagined he could see the golden tendrils of magic just beneath the skin. For a moment he was just Merlin, this beautiful, magnificent man standing before him, not the Mad Scout, not a shy son, but a new Merlin just for Arthur.

Only seconds had passed, though to Arthur it felt hours. Merlin gave Arthur a sad smile before saying, “We should probably go buy that stuff for my mum when you’re done. We lost a few hours out in the forest.”

Arthur blinked, having forgotten all about Merlin’s pseudo-birthday party Hunith had planned for that night. He nodded and stood. He felt the beginnings of a smile tug at the corners of his lips when he saw Merlin glance down and quickly back up as he approached the door.

Leaning in close, Arthur said suggestively, “Then I’ll finish what I started down in the kitchen.”

That made Merlin smile more genuinely and Arthur’s heart swelled. He pressed a quick kiss to the side of Merlin’s mouth and left to bathe himself.

“Merlin, it’s cold, but it’s not _that_ cold.”

“Shut up,” Merlin bit back, tugging the beanie further down over his ears.

“You’re doing what I think you’re doing, aren’t you?” Arthur asked, smirking.

Merlin gave him a rough push on the shoulder. “Yeah, and so what? I came here to see my mum, not...not anybody else.”

“Come on, Merlin, you had to have had _some_ friends here,” Arthur said, tying his shoe.

“Well...I wouldn’t call him a friend.” Sure, his dealer and him had gotten friend _ly_ , but they’d never bridged the gap and become full-out mates.

“What would you call him then?” Arthur questioned, half not wanting to know.

“A dealer,” Merlin admitted quickly to brush it under the rug. “Alright, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Arthur followed loyally out of the house and down the pavement. It was narrow and Arthur couldn’t walk beside Merlin until they got closer to the town centre, at which point Merlin had hunched his shoulders and tried to disappear in the folds of his coat.

A few people did double-takes when they saw Arthur—it was rare seeing strangers in the small town—and merely raised a puzzled brow at Merlin, who couldn’t be properly seen. It wasn’t until they entered the small grocery that they encountered any real trouble.

Merlin remembered the layout of the shop easily and managed to get the milk, eggs, and chocolate in under fifteen minutes. It was the queue that was driving him up the wall though. He didn’t let his impatience show through too much, just kept rubbing the tip of his middle finger and thumb together as if snapping in slow motion. His jaw was firmly set and there was a hollowness in his eyes that had Arthur sneaking worried glances at him every so often.

Finally they reached the front and Merlin set their items down. He kept his eyes determinedly on the cap of the milk, following it when the cashier rung it up and when it went into the bag. He would not look up, he would _not_ look up—

“Holy shit! Is that...Merlin?”

Arthur started at the amazement in the young man’s voice and briefly looked at the name tag. Merlin had never mentioned anyone named Jack. But then he hadn’t mentioned much other than that he had a shit childhood because boys...

Boys liked to pick on him. Arthur tensed.

Merlin’s jaw clenched and he didn’t respond. Why couldn’t Jack just ring him up and let it go? So what if Merlin was making an appearance after five years? Was it really that big of a deal?

Apparently it was, because Jack was frozen in shock, carton of eggs positioned halfway to the scanner. “No way. But I’d know that look of wanting to disappear anywhere. You _are_ Merlin!”

The rest of the queue was getting restless and the small lady just behind Arthur was glaring pointedly at Jack, but he ignored her.

“Please don’t drop those,” Merlin said in a small voice, because from the way Jack was holding the eggs, it looked as though he might.

Jack’s brow furrowed then he looked at the item in his hands. “Oh. Oh, right.” He scanned them and put them in the bag with the milk, which made Arthur frown but he didn’t comment. “Still don’t talk much then, eh, Merlin?” Jack grinned and picked up the chocolate.

Merlin didn’t say anything, just stuck his hands in his pockets. He wanted to be back at his mum’s house or back home or anywhere, anywhere that was far away from here.

“You know, Freddie, Mitch, and Val are still here as well. I’m sure I could round them up after I get off.”

Merlin stiffened and Arthur nearly reached out to comfort him but stopped.

Jack seemed to sense his mistake. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean...I meant for a drink or something. We were...we were kids, yeah? It was just a bit of fun. No hard feelings, right mate?”

_A bit of fun. Years of torment and crying myself to sleep and hating every day I had to wake up and getting high to make it all go away was just ‘a bit of fun.’_

_Kill him._

_Killing him would be a bit of fun._

_No hard feelings, right Jack?_

Inside his pockets, Merlin’s fists clenched. He raised his gaze to the point between Jack’s brows, refusing to look directly in his eyes, and spat, “I’m not your mate.”

Arthur took a step closer. There was that look in Merlin’s eyes again, that deadly intent...

Jack must have seen it too because he scrambled to finish scanning their items and stammered, “Y-Yeah, of course. You’re not—why would you be?” He packed the chocolate in the bag with the rest of their purchases. “That’ll be seventeen gold.”

Merlin’s movements were quick and jerky as he slipped back into his shy shell. He plucked out seventeen coins and dropped it in the till, then picked up the bag and scurried out with his head down. When Arthur chanced a glimpse back, Jack was staring after them with his mouth hanging open.

“Oh my gods, _Mum_!” Merlin gasped when he walked into the kitchen later that night. In the middle of the table was a two-layer chocolate cake with elaborate swirls and cherries on top. And she really had stuck twenty-one candles in the icing, all of which were quickly melting.

“What?” Hunith asked, wide-eyed and innocent. “I forgot you said no candles. They’re lit, might as well blow them out.”

Merlin glanced at the cake again. “This is all so...weird. I haven’t had a birthday party in years.”

“Yes, well, the concept hasn’t changed. Everyone stands round and sings, nothing new there,” Arthur remarked, leaning in the doorway with a crooked smile.

“That is precisely why I’ve made this lovely cake,” Hunith said, ignoring Arthur’s comment. “Sit sit sit! The wax is melting.”

Merlin rolled his eyes and blew out the candles. Hunith hugged his sitting body from behind, placing a messy, motherly kiss on his cheek, which he promptly wiped off. “Mum,” he groaned but was smiling.

“Happy Birthday, Merlin!” she cooed.

“Thanks. I guess. Can we have the cake now?”

Arthur laughed. “Two cakes in three days. You’ve been lucky recently, huh?”

Merlin groaned. “Don’t remind me. I should have stopped after my third slice. It was the fourth that ruined me.”

“I hope you’ve learned from your mistakes and take it slowly with this one,” Arthur continued, amused.

They both looked to Hunith, who was standing there with the knife looking puzzled.

“Some of my mates in the city made me a cake before I left,” Merlin explained. “It was all very sickeningly emotional,” he said, remembering how Mother and even Lance had said it was so mature of him going back to face his mother after leaving her heartbroken and without a son.

“It was,” Arthur agreed. “I was there.”

Hunith began slicing the cake in medium, even pieces. “Oh? And what are they like, these mates of yours?”

Merlin swallowed. She’d never met Thomas and his group of druggies, but she’d heard about them from the other parents often enough. And she’d seen Thomas smoking on a street corner every so often.

“They’re not how you think,” Merlin said. “They actually hate that I smoke. Drives them mad.”

Hunith lifted an eyebrow as she put a slice on the plate in front of Merlin and consulted Arthur with a significant look.

“It’s true. They worry about him all the time.”

Merlin looked up. “They do? I thought that was just Mother and Gaius.”

“Of course they worry about you, Merlin. When you went...you should have seen them,” Arthur filtered himself for Hunith’s sake. “Though Mother was the worst.” He didn’t say that he had been even worse than _her_ , but that was probably understood.

Merlin hummed then turned back to his cake slice. He shrugged and plunged his fork into it without another thought.

Hunith served Arthur then got herself a piece. “You have a friend named Mother? That’s odd,” she commented, swallowing her first bite.

“Her real name is Gwen,” Merlin said.

“But you all call her Mother?”

“Well, her brother and her boyfriend don’t. And neither does Gaius but that’s because he’s old,” Merlin replied. “Everyone else does though.” He finished his cake and eyed the rest, very seriously contemplating another slice.

“It’s because she’s so caring,” Arthur added when Hunith still looked confused. “She’s, you know, motherly.”

Merlin decided yes, he did want a second slice, and sent out an invisible magic hand to bring it to his plate. He dug in more greedily than he had the first piece.

“Merlin,” Arthur warned.

“Mmm, fmm umph,” Merlin waved at him. Arthur understood the “Oh, fuck off” that it was meant to be.

“It’s your stomach.” He shrugged.

Hunith watched them eat a while after she’d finished her own small slice. When Arthur had done and Merlin was serving himself a third slice, she made her way round to Arthur’s side and tapped him on the shoulder. “A word, please?” she asked quietly. Merlin went on eating ignorantly.

Arthur’s brow furrowed but he said, “Sure.” He followed her out to the living room.

“I know Merlin won’t tell me if I ask—he’s much too secretive—but you...you’ll tell me if there’s anything seriously wrong with him, won’t you?” She looked up at Arthur with wide, trusting eyes that pleaded for the tiniest bit of knowledge about her son.

Arthur bit his lip. It wasn’t his place to tell Merlin’s mum anything he didn’t want her to know. But it was his _mum_ and she hadn’t seen him for nearly five years and she deserved to know why her son had woken up screaming bloody murder in the night.

“You said Merlin has nightmares?” she prompted.

“Yes. He does.”

“Why? What about?”

“He...” Arthur looked around, at anywhere but her. “I shouldn’t tell you. It’s him should be saying it, not me.”

“Do you really think he’ll tell me if I ask?”

“No.”

“Exactly.”

Arthur sighed. “Okay. But only because I do think you deserve to know. He’ll never forgive me if he finds out I’ve told you.”

“He’s not one to hold grudges. It may take a while, but he’ll understand,” Hunith explained.

Arthur pursed his lips. “I hope that’s the case.” He took a deep breath. “Merlin has PTSD.”

Hunith inhaled sharply but quietly. She had sense enough to remember Merlin was just in the other room. “What happened?”

“I can’t tell you. It’s—Merlin made me promise not to say anything.”

“Oh my gods. My poor Merlin.” She looked about to overflow with tears but schooled her features and set her jaw determinedly. “Right then. Better make the best of things while I can. Thank you, Arthur. I’m sorry I had to ask you to do something you feel is wrong.” She squeezed his arm then returned to the kitchen.

When Arthur walked back in, Merlin was holding his stomach and groaning. “You did it again, didn’t you?” Arthur asked.

Merlin gave Arthur a sheepish grin. “To be fair, I haven’t had my mum’s chocolate cake in a long time. I forgot how delicious it was.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and Hunith began clearing away the dishes. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she said smiling tightly.

Merlin saw through it. “Everything alright?” he asked.

Hunith stopped when she’d put the plates in the sink with a loud _clank_. She didn’t turn around when she replied, “I don’t know, Merlin, why don’t you tell me?”

Merlin looked from Arthur to his mum and back again. Finally, with a furrowed brow he said, “Next time, Mum. Next time I come to visit I’ll tell you everything. But not right now. There’s too much going on right now.”

Hunith still hadn’t turned when she resumed washing the dishes. With a quick jerk of his head at Arthur, Merlin indicated they retreat to his room. He took Arthur’s hand as he passed and they exited quietly.

“What did she want?” Merlin asked when they were safely in his room.

“She wanted to know what was wrong with you,” Arthur responded truthfully. “I told her you have PTSD but nothing else.”

Merlin sighed and sank onto his bed. “Thanks.”

“You’re not upset I told her?” Arthur sat beside him and wrapped an arm around his waist.

“Saves me the trouble of having to tell her myself. It was hard enough telling you.”

“I already knew.” Arthur recalled when Merlin had confessed in a rushed breath about his disorder.

“Doesn’t make the words any less hard to say.”

They were quiet for a while, long enough for the sounds in the kitchen to stop and to hear Hunith make her way upstairs. She paused by Merlin’s door a moment before going on.

“Maybe,” Arthur began, “maybe talking about it will help? You know, like with—”

“No.”

“Merlin, at least consider it.”

“I have! Gaius has tried to speak with me about it, I’ve thought about going to Mother, hell, I even almost talked to Freya. But every time I get close to bringing it up I—” Merlin balled his hands into fists on his thighs and swallowed hard. “I know I’m weak. You think I want everyone else to know too?”

Arthur fought the urge to stroke Merlin’s hair and soothe him. That was no doubt just the opposite of what Merlin needed, even if he wanted it more than he’d ever let on. Instead Arthur said firmly, “You’re not weak, Merlin. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but people are frightened of you _because_ you’re seemingly unfazed by death. It wouldn’t be showing weakness, it’d be showing humanity.”

Merlin leaned into Arthur more. “I understand what you’re saying, Arthur, I do. But it’s not just that. I don’t want to talk to some stranger about my nightmares. If I do decide to talk about it, I’d rather it be with someone I know.”

“There are plenty of Knights who’d be happy to help. They were all there, weren’t they?”

Merlin frowned at the prospect. “The last thing I need is Percival making fun of me. I can already hear him: ‘Couldn’t stomach it after all, huh, Merlin?’ No. I’d never go to them.”

“Is that really what you think would happen?” Arthur asked, disbelieving. “Merlin, I’ve only been with the Knights a short while, but even I can see none of them would react that way. Besides, you had to have been young when it all happened. I was seventeen, so that means you were too. You were a _kid_. We’re both still practically kids. I think they’ll understand. And I really don’t see any other way for you to get better if you keep burying the memories away.”

Merlin was silent another short while and when Arthur next looked at him he was surprised to find Merlin smiling. It wasn’t an all-out grin, just a slight curve upwards near the corner of his lips, but it was a smile.

“What?” Arthur asked, smiling a bit now himself.

“I wish you’d quit logicking.”

Arthur barked out a laugh. “Did you just make a verb of the word logic?”

“Yes.” Merlin’s smile stretched into a genuine grin across his face and he darted his eyes Arthur’s way.

“You’ll do it, then? You’ll talk to them?”

Arthur worried he’d asked too soon after Merlin’s slight recovery, but it proved ill-placed. “I’ll try to talk to Gaius. And maybe Mother. But I’m not making any promises,” he appended with a pointed finger.

“I just want you to be happy, Merlin,” Arthur said. “When Morgana had to hire grief counsellors for the Prots after the July Riot, a lot of them felt better after they talked about it. There were some that thought the whole thing was stupid, of course, but most of them benefited from it. If talking about it doesn’t help, we can try something else.”

“The Prots needed grief counselling?” Merlin frowned at the information.

“Yes. They’re people too, you know.”

“I know. I guess I just...we never thought about them. We always felt guilty about the citizens that died but never really thought of the Prots.”

“Yeah, well, you wouldn’t be the first to overlook the enemy’s feelings.” Arthur shrugged.

“What about you?” Merlin suddenly had to know. “When you first heard about the riot, what did you feel?”

Arthur looked away. Merlin deserved to know the truth, but at what cost? How could Arthur say he was disgusted by it, had thought the whole lot of them monsters for the longest time?

“I was angry at first,” Arthur began softly. “I thought, how dare these terrorists do this to my father’s city? What possible reason could justify such destruction? I was confused and...I wanted to understand. I didn’t know what the point of all the killing was. I wanted it to stop, for there to be peace. I didn’t know anything. It was only about three years ago but it seems like a lifetime now.”

Merlin nodded. It did feel as though a lot of time had passed, even if the memories were as clear as if it had happened just yesterday.

“When I asked my father why anyone would want to do something so heartless, he just told me that some people couldn’t follow rules, that they thought themselves above the law. I told him there had to be more to it than that. Nobody would cause such a tragedy just for the hell of it. There are two sides to every story, I said,” Arthur insisted. “But he was adamant. He refused to believe it was anything but an act of rebellion, a statement, a slap in the face, I don’t know. And when I asked Morgana...” Arthur snorted. “Big help she was. Just told me to run along and enjoy being ignorant while I still could. I hated not knowing anything.”

“And now you know everything,” Merlin interjected quietly.

Arthur looked up with a sad smile. “Yeah. And I’m glad I do. You may have started the battle but my father started the war. And I’m going to finish it.”

Merlin threaded his fingers in Arthur’s. “ _We’ll_ finish it. And maybe we can figure out how to fix my brain along the way.”

Arthur tightened his hold around Merlin’s waist to bring him closer and lightly kissed Merlin’s temple. “We will. I promise.”

Before Arthur could turn away, Merlin reached up with his free hand to keep Arthur there and kissed him properly. When Merlin licked into his mouth, Arthur recalled him dripping wet with a towel low around his waist and sudden desire flared up between his legs. Almost without thinking, he pushed Merlin back until he hovered above him on the bed and Merlin wrapped his legs around Arthur to bring their bodies closer.

“Wait.” Arthur pulled back from Merlin’s lips breathlessly. “Did you want—Is this—”

“Yeah,” Merlin replied, knowing exactly what Arthur was trying to ask. “But we’ll have to be quiet.”

Arthur nodded. “Of course. Just checking.”

“Good.” Merlin smiled. “Because it’s about bloody time, don’t you think?”

Arthur laughed and leaned back to pull his shirt over his head. Just creating the distance between them for that small period of time was painful. “Can’t believe I’m about to lose my virginity in a kid’s bedroom.”

Merlin sat up and secured his lips to Arthur’s newly bare chest. “Mmm, believe it,” he said into the warm flesh and abruptly sucked a nipple.

A low moan escaped Arthur’s throat before he could stop it and he pushed his fingers into Merlin’s hair to encourage Merlin’s tongue. There was a brief nip of teeth, teasing just like Merlin constantly was, and Arthur may have whimpered. Merlin chuckled and did it again before moving to the other nipple to repeat the treatment.

“Merlin,” Arthur said breathily and rubbed his cock insistently against Merlin’s leg.

Finally, Merlin took his shirt off. There was a bit of shifting and the rustle of clothing was the only sound in the room for a few heated seconds. When they were naked, they grabbed for each other, laughing like schoolchildren, and fell back onto the bed.

Merlin attacked Arthur’s collarbone and sucked sweet kisses onto the skin until Arthur’s neck was peppered with bruises. He rolled his hips to keep up the constant stream of sensation, drawing more gasps of pleasure from Arthur’s mouth as he did it. He couldn’t help but bite down a few times when Arthur’s hand jerked on his cock. Arthur would have to wear collared shirts for a while.

The same thought must have gone through Arthur’s head because he leaned down to distract Merlin with a kiss. “Quit marking me,” he chuckled against the scout’s lips.

“I don’t mean to,” Merlin replied sheepishly. “I just love every part of you.” To show Arthur his sincerity, he slid his hand between their bodies and wrapped his fingers around Arthur’s cock just as tightly as Arthur’s was around his own. Arthur thrust forward into Merlin’s hand with a grunt and unconsciously bit down on Merlin’s lip.

“Fuck, Merlin...where are those fucking condoms Lance packed?”

Merlin laughed. With a thought, Merlin’s eyes flashed gold and the necessary materials rose and floated over to the bed. Merlin made the bottle of lube sit on top of Arthur’s sex-tousled blond head, giggling while Arthur rolled his eyes and reached up to take it.

“You’re so weird,” Arthur chuckled as he popped the top off. Merlin spread his legs open and folded his hands behind his head, smiling mischievously.

“But that’s why you love me.” Merlin’s breath hitched as Arthur slid the first oiled digit inside him. “Right?”

Arthur knew the answer meant more to Merlin than he’d ever let on. “Right,” he said with a broad smile.

Merlin let his head fall back while Arthur worked him open. He relaxed his body and gave everything to him. The few times he’d done this before it was with blokes he couldn’t afford to pay for drugs or in an effort to forget the July Riot. He always felt like an experiment then, spread open on a lab table as he was picked at until the scientist in question was ready to see what discoveries they could make from the Mad Scout. With Arthur, he felt just as vulnerable, but it was a comfortable vulnerability. He knew Arthur would take care of him, and he trusted him.

He bit back a cry when Arthur’s fingers brushed his prostate, and in a stroke of brilliance put up a magical sound barrier so they could make all the noise they wanted. Why he hadn’t thought of it before, he didn’t know.

Arthur may have been inexperienced but he was a quick learner. He kept hitting that spot within Merlin with expert precision, until finally Merlin felt so close to coming that he begged Arthur to stop and to “get inside me already!” Arthur pulled on a condom and complied.

Arthur’s fingers had been like little probes digging out Merlin’s fears and worries and replacing them with pleasure. His cock pushed any remaining thoughts out as Merlin’s whole world came down to that one point of connection. There was no poverty-stricken Camelot, no July Riot, no reputation for being a merciless killer blinded by hatred and rage. There was only Arthur, hot and thick inside him, filling him up to the brim with his warm love and affection.

“Fuck,” Arthur swore once he was buried balls deep inside of Merlin. It was so much better than his hand, better than fucking Merlin’s thighs as they’d done a few times, and even better than Merlin’s lewd mouth. It was so tight; Merlin’s hole hugged his cock like it never wanted to let go.

“Gets better once you start moving,” Merlin quipped. He rocked his hips to prove his point.

Arthur contemplated saying something just as cheeky back, like “This is my virginity here, and I’ll take as much time to enjoy this as I want” but decided to take Merlin’s advice for once. He pulled out until just the head remained inside then went slowly back in. The next time he tried to do it, Merlin met him halfway so that he slammed the rest of the way in.

At Arthur’s annoyed expression, Merlin simply smiled sweetly. Still, Arthur couldn’t deny that it had felt good, so he did it Merlin’s way. Merlin wasn’t useless and helped keep up the pace with his hips.

It seemed Merlin had opened up completely. He looked at Arthur with pure trust and devotion, not once letting his gaze linger too long away from Arthur’s eyes. Arthur felt Merlin’s love in small hitches of breath as Arthur slid just the right way into him and in the little moans that escaped when Arthur’s fingers dug perfectly painful into Merlin’s thigh. He felt it in the way Merlin’s hands clutched Arthur tight like he never wanted to let go and they couldn’t get close enough, even though they were as close as they could possibly ever be at this moment. Merlin’s love was present in the darkness between his chapped lips hanging open in an “o” of pleasure as he panted at Arthur’s increase in speed.

Arthur yearned for those lips. He released his hold on Merlin’s thighs and tilted forward to plant his hands by Merlin’s head where he could lean down and kiss him. Merlin opened up for him then too. He let Arthur’s tongue explore, and more importantly, _know_ Merlin. Merlin was like a blooming flower beneath him, just as beautiful and just as fragile.

Merlin thought it would have felt a lot better if he could get on his hands and knees. The angle would be just right and Arthur would be able to pound in so much deeper. But he could tell that Arthur liked seeing his face while they fucked and this _was_ all about Arthur, it being his first time and all. They could experiment with positions some other day.

Even so, after Arthur’s lips finally left his own, Merlin lifted his legs and shifted most of his weight to his shoulders. Arthur, not wholly incompetent, pulled Merlin’s legs up the rest of the way and hoisted them on either side of his own neck. He leaned so that he bent Merlin nearly in half, but the angle—that’s what Merlin had been going for—the angle was all right.

Arthur’s fringe was dark with sweat and the sounds of his flesh hitting Merlin filled the room. Merlin could feel Arthur’s balls spank his arse each time he thrust forward. When they tightened and Arthur’s first throb of orgasm overcame him, Merlin started to fist his cock so he wouldn’t be far behind. Merlin’s toes curled and he threw his head back with a silent scream, while Arthur clenched his fist in the sheet and bit Merlin’s shoulder, both of their bodies were so taut with tension that they trembled together.

“Fucking hell, Arthur,” Merlin panted as Arthur pulled out gingerly. “I can’t wait to do that again.”

Arthur was in complete agreement, and stood on wobbly legs to toss the condom out.

“Get me a towel while you’re up, would you?” Merlin asked from the bed.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” said Arthur. “Would you like some tea as well?”

Merlin looked up. “Tea would be great, actually.”

Arthur laughed and shook his head. “I’m not getting you tea.” He picked up Merlin’s towel from earlier and tossed it over. “Here.”

“Thanks.”

Arthur gathered up their discarded clothes and put them in a pile. He threw Merlin his pants and slipped into his own, then headed back to the bed.

“Going home tomorrow evening,” Arthur remarked when they’d gotten settled beneath the duvet. “Did you enjoy the visit?”

Merlin yawned. “I guess so. It wasn’t a total disaster.”

“Going to tell me what happened at the grocery today?”

He felt Merlin stiffen. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because there’s nothing _to_ tell. It was just one of the blokes that used to tease me, alright? I didn’t kill him.”

Arthur frowned. Where had that come from? “I didn’t think you would.” He perched up on his elbow to get a better look at Merlin’s face. “Merlin?”

“Go to sleep.”

“Did you want to? Kill him, I mean.”

Merlin hesitated before answering, and that in itself was answer enough. “Yes. I wanted to kill him. But I stopped myself. You were there, you saw! I didn’t kill him!”

Merlin had started shouting near the end and Arthur put his hand on him, rubbing his arm to calm him. “I know, Merlin. I was just asking. I’m proud of you for keeping it together.” And he was.

Merlin snorted. “Go to sleep.” In a last effort at self-preservation he turned his head just enough to look in Arthur’s eyes with a wide smile. “If we wake up before Mum we might have time for an early morning fuck, yeah?”

Arthur just rolled his eyes and settled back down to sleep.

“We’re home!”

Merlin’s yell echoed through the underground halls and the Knights came running to greet them. Gwen reached them first and pulled them both into a fierce hug that mashed both their faces into her breast.

“We missed you so much!” she cooed.

“Um, Mother?” Merlin began, voice muffled.

“Oxygen. Please,” Arthur said.

Gwen laughed and let them loose. They each took a lungful of breath before sharing a look and bursting into laughter.

“When my sister says ‘we’ missed you...” Elyan’s voice piped up from behind Gwen.

“She really means that she and Gaius did,” Lance finished, coming up behind Elyan. “The rest of us enjoyed the peace and quiet.”

Arthur knew for a fact that wasn’t true. When Merlin had gone missing they’d been practically lost without the Mad Scout. Merlin brought life and vibrancy to the Castle, without which the Knights were just another gang of run-of-the-mill anarchists.

“Aw,” Merlin pouted in mock-hurt, “not even a teensy weensy little bit?”

All the Knights were present by now, even Gaius who had sauntered in last.

“I think Percival may have missed you,” Leon put forth. Arthur looked at the man with surprise. The leader rarely joked.

Percival shook his head. “Nuh-uh, no way. I liked it with just me and my dumbbells, thank you very much. You could have taken a whole week off and I’d be just fine with it.”

“How was your mother?” Gwen asked in an obvious effort to steer the conversation in a better direction.

“The first thing she did was slap me!” Merlin shouted. “Can you believe that? I come back dressed all nice and with a gorgeous boyfriend, and she _slaps_ me!”

There was a moment of silence during which the elder Knights looked at each other, then it was abruptly broken with a round of laughter. Even Gaius. Merlin just shook his head and crossed his arms.

“What Merlin has failed to mention is how she gave us tea after that,” Arthur said. “She’s actually quite lovely. Baked Merlin a birthday cake and everything.”

The male Knights all dropped their jaw in astonishment. “You got _another_ cake?” Percival asked in disbelief. “After running away and ripping out her heart and making her think you were dead and—”

“ _Yes_ , Percival, even after all that,” Merlin interjected. “It was to make up for having missed my birthday the last five years.”

Gwen displayed a rare spark of anger. “I would have celebrated your birthday if you’d told me when it was,” she declared. Then, blushing, she added, “I mean, _we_ would have. As a family.”

Everyone shifted uncomfortably—everyone, save Merlin that is, who was never uncomfortable, at least in this persona—and looked down. Merlin ended the awkwardness as he usually did with a manic laugh.

“I didn’t _want_ a birthday, Mother! If I did, I would’ve told you. I just don’t like parties.”

Lance raised a sceptical brow. “You? The Mad Scout doesn’t like parties? Tell me I’ve heard that right.”

“He doesn’t need them. He throws one every day in the phone room when he gets stoned out of his mind,” Perce offered.

“Oi!”

Perce just shrugged and Leon clapped his hands once to get everyone’s attention. “Right. Welcome back Merlin, Arthur. You two can have the night off to get settled but then it’s back to work tomorrow.”

Merlin stood ramrod straight and mock saluted. “Yes, sir.”

“Sure thing, Leon,” Arthur said with a shrug. He had some things to attend to anyways.

“Excellent. Elyan, Lance, you wanted to speak with me?”

The first place Arthur went after he finished unpacking was to the main atrium. Luckily nobody was there and he was able to retrieve the ring. He got down on all fours, crawled under the table, tore the tape away and grabbed it. He slipped it onto his thumb and went to see Gaius.

Arthur twisted the ring just before pushing the button and walking in.

“Ah, hello Arthur,” the old man greeted him. “Are you...?”

Arthur wiggled his thumb. “I turned them off. Going to need them back now.”

“Of course.” Gaius stood and went to stand in front of the full-length mirror by his dresser. He plucked the contacts out with ease and carefully placed each in Arthur’s waiting palm.

“I have a plan,” he announced as Gaius walked back to his desk.

“Oh?”

“Well, Merlin helped a bit. He’s actually...kind of brilliant.” Gaius chuckled but said nothing, so Arthur continued. “We’re going to tell the rest of them. We were going to wait, but...Leon was right. With winter coming things are going to start moving rapidly and I don’t have the luxury of waiting a month to earn everyone’s trust. It’s just going to have to be a leap of faith.”

“I understand.”

“You do?”

Gaius nodded. “I think you’re doing the right thing. Now is the time. We can’t wait any longer, not with Kilgharrah wanting another riot. You need to convince him of an alternative, and to do that you need to be free of your sister’s watchful eye.”

“Um. Yeah.” Arthur hadn’t expected the old man to catch on so quickly. “So...any idea how I can get in contact with this Kilgharrah?”

Gaius shook his head. “Merlin is the only one he gave the number to.” Arthur deflated. “However, I don’t think you’ll need it.”

It took a moment to click in Arthur’s brain, but he got it. “The telephone box. There’s a camera, isn’t there?”

The old man looked pleased that Arthur pieced it together. “I don’t see how else he would know who approached when he called the last time.”

“Thanks Gaius.” Arthur turned excitedly to leave.

“Arthur.” He stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Don’t take it personally if he doesn’t answer.”

“He’ll answer.”

Arthur tried not to break into a run right away. He understood completely what Merlin meant about not knowing what to do when not fighting. His whole life he’d been trained to be a man of action; finally he was acting on something. It wasn’t his father’s or his sister’s orders either, but his own. It was exciting.

As soon as Arthur stepped into the phone room the ringing started. Good. Kilgharrah wanted to talk to him too then.

“I have a plan.” Arthur skipped the formalities.

“Oh?” Kilgharrah seemed amused.

“It requires telling the rest of them who I am. I need your help.”

“I expected as much. But first there’s something you need to know about Merlin. It’s his trigger.”


	9. Merlin, After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?” - J.K. Rowling, _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_

“It’s on, it’s on!” Gwen called from the main atrium. The Knights stopped what they’d been doing—Lance and Elyan were playing cards, Leon was talking in hushed tones with Gaius, and Percival was doing bicep curls—and hurried over to where Gwen sat in front of the television.

“Turn it up!” Elyan said. “If I can’t hear it, I know Gaius can’t.”

Gaius gave the techie a look just as Merlin walked lazily into the room.

Yawning, Merlin asked, “Mother yelling about something being on?”

“Yeah, they’re talking about the riot on the news,” Percival answered. It had only been a little over twelve hours since Merlin had gone into what appeared to be a frenzy, and the bodyguard was still wary of him. Merlin had always been odd—too loud, immature, and giggly, not to mention swinging from bars like a monkey—but what happened the day before had confirmed nearly everyone’s thoughts about the boy: Merlin was completely mental.

Merlin’s brow twitched and a slow smile crept across his face. “Yeah? They get my good side on camera?” He knew full well however that Elyan had disabled nearly all the street cameras, and those he didn’t Merlin affected with magic.

Percival snorted, but still tread cautiously. “You don’t have a good side.”

Merlin ignored him to go sit in front of the screen by Gwen. He sat with his heels on the floor and his elbows propped sideways on his knees, hands clasped in the space between his legs.

_“...the horrific tragedy that is quickly becoming known as the July Riot. The source of the uprising is currently unknown, but there are rumours that the terrorist group who call themselves the ‘Knights’ were somehow involved.”_

“Woooo!” Elyan shouted. He and Lance high-fived each other and Gwen rolled her eyes.

_“Street cameras and similar devices were malfunctioning during the event, therefore we have no visual footage, but some survivors have confirmed that the muscle man known as Percival and another named Elyan were present in the bloodbath.”_

“Aw, they missed Leon and Merlin,” Percival teased.

Leon didn’t fall for it. “That may be due to the fact that I have _some_ semblance of stealth.”

“And I was probably moving too quickly,” Merlin added.

“Shhh! Look, they’re interviewing the victims,” Gwen hushed them.

On the screen, several people were being interviewed. They spoke one by one with the reporter in what looked to be some sort of living room. There were three of them, two women and one man. One woman was crying openly, the other woman was more angry than sad and spoke in clipped tones, and the man had sparkling eyes up until the point when it was his turn to speak, at which point tears began to flow freely down his cheeks.

In the main atrium, the Knights sat silently. They’d known there would be civilian casualties—such was the price of revolution—but that made it no easier to see how much it affected the city.

When the camera zoomed in on the crying woman, Merlin froze. The bottom of the screen declared her name to be Allison Stewart, the twin sister of a young Protector, Daegal Stewart. Twin sister indeed. Merlin could clearly see the resemblance; it was remarkably similar to her brother’s, to the man whose brains had been caked onto the bottom of Merlin’s shoe not twenty-four hours before.

Merlin had thought it would be done with. He had thought the faces of those he’d killed would stop rising to the forefront of his mind every passing second. He had thought—when his foot had smashed through Daegal’s head and the skull caved in—oh God, he had thought...

But that wasn’t the case. This girl, this _twin_ , was out there, wearing her brother’s face, a face that Merlin had hoped to forget.

Merlin didn’t hear the rest of the interview. He didn’t even hear the rest of the broadcast. All sound was lost as he only heard the screams, the cries of agony, and even worse, his victorious laughter as he conquered. He saw only Allison—no, Daegal—no, Allison, in his vision.

He didn’t feel himself stand up and walk out of the room. Everyone’s eyes were glued to the screen, so they only waved Merlin out of the way when he momentarily blocked their view.

He felt light-headed and somewhat nauseous. His blood was pumping like he had too much adrenaline so he started running. His feet took him to the rooftops, but the screams were right behind him. He couldn’t outrun them no matter how fast he went.

It was summer but he was shivering. The screams only seemed to be getting louder, and waves of fear crashed over him until he tripped—something he _never_ did—and didn’t get back up. He curled in on himself and held his head to make the screaming and cries for mercy go away. If he closed his eyes all he saw was the looks of terror on the faces of those he’d killed so he kept his eyes wide open. The Prots that had fought back and glared at him menacingly seemed to have never existed. All he remembered was those he had wronged.

It had been a mistake to come to the city. Merlin couldn’t do this, he wasn’t cut out for this. If only he’d listened to Freya and not gotten involved in politics, he wouldn’t be here now. He wanted his mum, he needed a bump of crystal, but most of all he just wanted to forget Daegal/Allison and the whole July Riot altogether. He didn’t want to do this anymore, he couldn’t, he couldn’t...

And then there was Leon, shaking him. “Merlin?” Merlin blinked and saw that he was standing in the middle of the atrium. His knees were scraped and bleeding, his hair was a windswept mess, and his eyes were wild. It was only him and Leon in the room. “Merlin? You alright? Where’d you go?”

Merlin’s mouth was dry and he swallowed painfully. When he spoke, his voice came out hoarse as if he’d been shouting. “Fine. What happened? Where is everyone?”

Leon’s brow furrowed. “The broadcast ended shortly after you left. They went back to their rooms. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Merlin blinked a few times then managed a flirtatious look through his eyelashes. “Dandelions and roses. Sweet of you to worry about me, though.”

Leon rolled his eyes and took his hand off Merlin’s shoulder. “Try to get some rest. I need you back out there in a few hours to make sure they still haven’t got a clue where the Castle is.”

“Sir yes sir,” Merlin mock saluted. He skipped off to his chambers for some hard-earned blow. Already he’d pushed Allison Stewart behind the wall, though the rest of his memories continued to haunt him.


	10. Dusk, Continued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.” - E.E. Cummings

“Before you say anything, I want you to know I’m completely against this whole idea.”

Merlin and Arthur shared a look. Most of Nimueh’s face was hidden in the shadow of her hood, but her red lips could be seen speaking the words in a cruel, clipped tone. That sight alone was enough to intimidate even Merlin.

“They need to know who I am for us to make any progress,” Arthur explained. They were sitting in the chairs at the front of the funeral parlour. Arthur remembered the first time he’d walked in the door, ignorant and entirely uncertain. Now the place felt like home.

“I know that,” Nimueh snapped. “I meant meeting here. It’s ridiculous.”

“The Prots already know the location of the Castle thanks to Arthur. It’s not like it matters,” Merlin said.

Nimueh pursed her lips in disapproval but said nothing. Arthur began. “Merlin is going to be wearing the contact cameras. I’m assuming you know about those?”

“Of course. Kilgharrah has told me everything.” Merlin wondered if she also knew about his magic. He tried to get a clue from her face, but again, it was mostly hidden in shadow.

“Good. Merlin is already wearing them and will be at the meeting, but I’ll have the—”

“No!” Nimueh stood so abruptly her hood fell and both boys were momentarily surprised by her beauty. Her eyes were like blue fire, accentuated by fierce dark eyebrows, and the nostrils of her slender nose flared out in her rage. Her hair stood on end as though she’d been shocked. It made her look a bit like Medusa and Merlin was glad her fiery gaze wasn’t directed at him. Arthur wasn’t quite as fortunate.

“Wh-what?” Arthur asked.

“This is already dangerous enough, doing it here. Now you want to let Morgana _watch_ you betray her and Uther? She knows where the Castle is. The Prots will be here before you’re even through!”

“She’s right,” Merlin said. “We can’t broadcast live. Your sister will send the reds after us and as much as we’ve been fortifying our defences we’re not quite ready for an ambush.”

“Why should that even matter? We have you. You could just take them all out with—”

“Arthur!” Merlin cut him off.

Arthur swallowed. He’d almost...

“That could work,” Nimueh surprised them by saying, “but Kilgharrah wants to have the element of surprise on our side. They don’t know about Merlin yet and it’s going to stay that way until the right time arises.”

Merlin huffed and rolled his eyes. “Of course Kil told you.”

“I did say he told me everything.” Nimueh lifted her hood over her eyes again and sank slowly back into her seat. “Which is how I also know it’s a bad idea for you to use your...gift...to kill so many people at one time.”

Merlin tried to disappear into the cushion of his chair and looked away. “Mass killing is actually easier. It’s the one on one stuff that gets to me. The faces...” Merlin shook the thoughts away and left his sentence unfinished. He purposely ignored how Arthur nearly stood to take an unconscious step towards him.

Nimueh looked in Merlin’s direction and for a moment she seemed to soften. She quickly became stoic again.

“Heed my warning: don’t record the meeting. Send her your own private message later. Kilgharrah would say the same.”

Merlin lifted his eyes to Arthur’s. Arthur was already staring back at him, and he shrugged. “Ready?” asked Arthur.

Merlin raised a brow. “I’m not the Son. I’m ready when you are.”

Arthur took a deep breath and stood. “Alright. Let’s go.”

Merlin got up and Nimueh moved as graceful and soundless as a ghost behind them. She made a small noise of displeasure the further underground they went but remained otherwise silent.

Elyan and Lance were sitting at the round table, a familiar holographic blueprint between them. Elyan was pointing near the top. “It would connect here, and here, and finally here, you see? And this would allow for flexi—”

“Who are you?” Lance demanded, interrupting Elyan. Elyan hit a button and the hologram disappeared back into the black tablet.

“That’s Nimueh,” Elyan answered, unable to keep the awe from his voice.

“Hello Lance. Elyan.” She nodded her greeting at each of them in turn.

“She knows who we are!” Lance shouted at Elyan with a wave of his hand.

“You idiot, of course she does. She works for Kilgharrah.”

“Is Leon available?” Arthur inquired before things got off-track. “We need to speak with him. Actually we need to speak with you all.”

“In his room.” Lance jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

“I’ll go get him.” Merlin disappeared down the corridor. He soon returned with Leon and Percival.

“You _are_ here then,” Leon said when he saw Nimueh. “Please, sit.”

Nimueh pulled out a chair (Mother’s chair, to be specific) and sat down as if she were royalty about to dine with peasants. Arthur had a feeling that if he could see her eyes, they’d be full of contempt.

“Why are you here?” Leon asked. He asked it so that it conveyed what everyone was thinking: _If it’s such a displeasure being in our presence, why come at all?_

“I’m here on behalf of Kilgharrah. I’ll say more once the rest of your little gang is here.”

Just then Mother walked in with a puzzled expression. “I ran into Merlin in the hall and he said to come straight—who is _that_?”

Nimueh had turned to look behind her so quickly that her hood fell again and in the dim light of the Castle her beauty seemed to brighten the place. Gwen eyed her with suspicion and seemed to dislike her immediately. By the look on Nimueh’s face, the feeling was mutual.

“Gwen, this is Nimueh,” Leon introduced her.

“Uh huh.” Gwen grumbled all the way over to where Lance sat and perched on his lap with a huff. Lance caressed her arm soothingly and she schooled her features into one of less antagonism.

“Merlin was on his way to get Gaius then, Mother?” Arthur asked.

“Yes. Has something happened?”

“Something’s about to.”

“Arthur.” Nimueh’s voice was sharp. “Merlin and Gaius already know. We don’t need them, so let’s just get this over with.”

Arthur liked her better when he couldn’t see her eyes. They were just as cold as her voice.

“Fine.” He really wanted Merlin at his side when he told everyone, but Gaius was old and arthritic; it would take them a while to get down here so he took a deep breath and decided to do it quickly. “I’m the Son.”

There was no collective gasp as Arthur had imagined. Mother bit her lip, Percival’s fists clenched, Lance tightened his hold on Mother’s waist, and Elyan just tilted his head to the side as he processed the information. They all had different reactions save for where their eyes went: straight to Leon.

Leon pursed his lips in thought, his brow furrowed in deep concentration. He didn’t look at Arthur or at anyone, just stared at one spot on the table. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath. Everyone except Nimueh, who sat back and regarded her nails in a bored manner.

Leon had just opened his mouth to speak when Merlin came in and ruined the moment. “I’m back!” His smile vanished when he took in the obvious tension in the room. “Oh. I missed the big reveal.” Gaius slowly emerged from the corridor behind him and sighed at Merlin’s inappropriate behaviour. Arthur let his head fall to the table with a dull thud and Nimueh laughed, her high-pitched giggle echoing in the underground chamber.

“How long have you two known?” Leon asked them.

“Well, _I_ knew after Kilgharrah told me, which was right after the first meeting with her.” Merlin pointed at Nimueh. He wouldn’t tell them the real truth, that he’d opened the cube and it had been a message. Then he’d have to explain how he opened it.

“And you?” Leon shifted his gaze to the old man.

“Merlin told me after he recovered from his episode.”

Leon nodded. “I see. And you’re here to what, make sure we don’t kick him out on his arse?” he asked of Nimueh.

“Pretty much,” she shot back nonchalantly. “You need him. Without him, you’ll have a large following, sure, but there are lots of people—wealthy, conservative people—who will oppose you no matter what. You could overthrow the government and take over, _or_...”

“We could use the heir,” Leon finished. “And we’d have every right to rule.”

“No,” Percival interjected, “ _he_ would. What’s to stop him from turning his back on us once we get there? He’s been spying on us this whole time!”

“Oi!” Merlin jumped onto the table and looked down on Percival with his most intimidating glare. “I trust him. Gaius trusts him. Kilgharrah trusts him. You trust him too, or else.”

“I’m not afraid of you, _Mer_ lin,” Percival replied, lying through his teeth.

“Oh, you really should be.” Merlin took a step closer and bent his knees as if to lunge forward.

“That’s enough, Merlin!” Arthur shouted. Merlin grit his teeth but relented. He backflipped and landed beside Lance and Mother.

Percival was about to say something, no doubt make some snarky comment about Merlin being Arthur’s lapdog now, but Leon stopped him with a look. Perce clamped his mouth shut and crossed his arms.

Arthur waited until he had their full attention. “I would never, _ever_ betray any of you. In the short time I’ve been here, you’ve been more like a family to me than my own flesh and blood.” He let his gaze linger on Mother for a moment, until both of them blushed and he continued. “The way my father chooses to rule the city...it’s wrong. I was kept in that stupid tower and told all kinds of lies about the outside world. Whenever I did sneak out it was to wealthier areas where the problems were less obvious. Being sent out to gather information and take down the Knights opened my eyes to the reality. And then I learned there was a whole prophecy about me, and then Merlin kissed me and just...so many things happened and before I knew it I was—betraying my father seemed the only—”

Suddenly Merlin’s arm was draped heavily over Arthur’s shoulder. “In short, he sees how much of a pillock his father is and because he loves us all so much he’s going to help us.”

“Erm, what he said.”

Everyone looked between Arthur, Leon, and Nimueh for a few tense seconds before Mother, surprisingly, broke the silence.

“Well, he obviously loves Merlin. I mean, you can’t fake _that_ look.” Arthur blushed and Merlin just grinned. “And he obviously wouldn’t do anything to hurt him, which would in turn hurt us. I say we can trust him.” She finished with a nod.

“Thank you, Mother,” Arthur nodded back gratefully.

“Whatever Gwen is fine with, I’m fine with as well,” Lance said.

“And I’m not going to be upstaged by my sister’s boyfriend,” Elyan added. “I’m with you.”

Arthur chuckled. “Thank you both.” Merlin squeezed Arthur’s shoulders excitedly.

That just left Percival and Leon. Leon broke first.

“Nimueh has a point. We can win without you, but we won’t remain victorious for long without your claim to Uther’s legacy. You can stay.”

Percival grumbled. “I guess it doesn’t matter what I say then, since the leader has already given the okay. But I _would_ like to see Merlin get his arse whipped one of these days, and if anyone can do it, you can.”

“Believe me, Perce, I think Merlin’s arse has gotten more than—ow!” Gwen elbowed Lance in the stomach. Everyone, save Nimueh and Gaius of course, laughed good naturedly though.

Nimueh, in fact, stood while they were still making rude expressions at the two youngest. “Great. Since everyone’s a big happy family, I’ll just leave and take the good news back to Kilgharrah.”

She left in a flourish of navy cloth. Mother stuck her tongue out in the exiting woman’s direction.

“So what now?” Lance asked what was on everyone’s mind.

“Ah.” Arthur slid out from under Merlin’s arm and sat down, folding his hands dramatically. “I spoke with Kilgharrah. There’s going to be another riot.”

A chorus of “What!” rose from the table.

“Let me finish. This time, I’m in charge of the planning,” Arthur said, looking at each of them in turn. “Minimum Prot deaths, organised attacks, and most importantly, no civilian casualties.”

“Hear that, Merlin?” Percival teased. “ _Minimum_ Prot deaths. That means no _unnecessary killing_.”

Merlin rolled his eyes and ignored the clenching in his gut. “Whatever.”


	11. Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.” G.K. Chesterton

“Do you know what you’re going to say?” asked Merlin when he and Arthur were alone in their room. They were sitting cross-legged on Merlin’s bed facing each other.

“I have an idea.”

“Alright. Any time you’re ready.”

Arthur nodded and took a deep breath. He licked his chapped lips and twisted the ring.

“Morgana,” he began, “I’ve been wondering how to tell you this for a while. Actually since about the third day you sent me here. The thing is, I may have broken the first rule of espionage, and went against your direct order to avoid Merlin. I sort of…fell in love with him. But you probably figured I was on my way there the last time we talked.”

Merlin squeezed Arthur’s hand in his lap and smiled to let Arthur know he was doing well.

“I’m going to help the Knights. I believe in what they’re trying to accomplish, and I think you do too. You see the errors of Father’s ways just as much as I do. I realise that being a Knight means having to kill him. I’ve resigned myself to that. Imprisonment won’t satisfy the people, not after all he’s done. But you, Morgana, I believe I can save you. Like me, you were raised in Father’s image. You’re just as much of a victim as the rest of us. If you don’t want to join us, the worst that’ll happen is isolation. I’d make sure you’re given suitable treatment.”

Arthur paused to take another deep breath. “So, uh, I guess that’s all I’ve got to say. Don’t try to persuade me to come back. Oh, and about what you said last time: If you try to hurt Merlin, or any of the Knights for that matter, I won’t hesitate to kill you.” He finished with a firm nod and twisted the ring to cut the feed. Merlin threw himself at him as soon as it was over.

“That was great, Arthur!” he exclaimed.

Arthur tried unsuccessfully to unwrap Merlin’s arms from around his neck. “Thanks. You don’t think I was too harsh at the end?”

At that Merlin did pull back a bit and looked at Arthur curiously. “That depends. Did you mean it? About killing her?”

“I’ll hunt down anyone that even lays a finger on my family. I don’t care if we share the same Fa—”

“You’ve been hanging around me too long. You’re not supposed to be the vengeful one,” Merlin chided. “Even I wouldn’t kill my sister.” Arthur quirked a brow. “Alright, if they hurt you, maybe I would. But you’re not me. You’re a good person.”

Arthur frowned and stroked Merlin’s cheek with his thumb. “So are you, Merlin.”

Merlin pressed his lips in a thin line and looked like he wanted to disagree but didn’t. Instead he just sighed and lifted himself off of Arthur’s body so they could sit up again. He held out his hand and Arthur placed the silver ring in the open palm, knowing what came next.

Merlin set the ring on his knee then reached up to take the contact cameras out. He placed all three items in his palm again, and in a flash of light they turned to smoke.

“You’re free,” Merlin said, the gold fading from his smiling eyes.

“Yeah. Now we’ve just got to free the rest of the city.”

Arthur had never been to Leon’s chambers before. He’d seen Percival’s, he’d glanced into the electrical cave that was Elyan’s, and he’d been to Mother and Lance’s the morning Merlin hadn’t come back. He wasn’t quite sure what to expect.

Surprisingly, Leon’s room was the smallest. There was a single bed, a plain wardrobe, and a small table that Leon was standing behind as Arthur entered. He had his large hands splayed out as he looked at a three-dimensional map of the city.

“Arthur?” He pressed a button and the map disappeared.

“Are you busy?”

“You’re asking me that in the middle of a revolution?” Leon’s mouth tilted in an almost-smile. “What do you need?”

Arthur came to the front of the makeshift desk. There was no chair on this side like in Gaius’s quarters, so he remained standing.

“It’s about Merlin.”

“What has he done this time?” Leon sighed, already sagging with exasperation.

“No, no, it’s nothing like that. It’s something Kilgharrah told me when I spoke to him on the phone. About Merlin’s episode.” Arthur paused while Leon took this in. “He knows what triggered it.”

Leon removed his hands from the table and sank into the dilapidated chair behind him. He folded his hands across his stomach and kept his eyes locked on nothing in particular. Arthur shifted awkwardly on his feet while he waited for Leon to say something.

A photograph caught his eye first. Among the various items scattered about the desk was a frame that was facing partially away from him. Photos were scrolling across the screen, photos with two smiling people. Judging from the sandy curls and beard, one of them was obviously Leon. The other was a woman, a brunette, but the angle Arthur was looking from made it so he couldn’t see much in the way of facial features. If he moved to the right a little...

Leon’s hand came darting out suddenly and slammed the frame face down on the table. “Perhaps we should have had this talk as soon as you told me who you were.”

“Yes?”

“Nobody else knows this. Not even Gaius.” Arthur waited patiently for Leon to continue, and wished again for a second chair so he wouldn’t have to be left standing like an idiot.

“I was a Protector, once.”

Arthur’s eyes widened. “ _You_? You were?”

“For about a week. I went through all the training and received the respect of my peers, even praise from Morgana herself. But once they put me out in the field...what I saw disgusted me,” Leon explained. “After six days on patrol I decided I’d had enough. And I had first-hand knowledge about how the system worked. I knew something had to change, so I left my upper-class family and went underground.”

Leon? Upper-class? How far he had fallen, to have not even the most luxurious room among those he led. Or used to lead, now that Arthur had officially taken over.

“I don’t understand,” Arthur said. “I mean, I do, but...why are you telling me this? What does this have to do with Merlin’s trigger?”

“Because. Me, you, Percival...we were trained to be warriors. Merlin wasn’t. He was barely sixteen when he came to us. We told him we weren’t an orphanage, that it wasn’t some Oliver Twist gang of thieves he’d be getting into. But you know him: fearless, stubborn, incorrigible. Even after I told him he’d be just an errand-boy and a lookout, he managed to worm his way into getting Percival to teach him how to fight. Then Elyan taught him how to shoot. Before I knew it we had created a legend.”

“The Mad Scout,” Arthur supplied.

“Exactly. Merlin was always weird. He was young, you know how kids are. Loud, obnoxious, and inappropriate. But he got the job done and proved he could handle it. At least everyone thought he could.”

Arthur nodded. “He told me what happened. About the July Riot.” Arthur saw his chance to get something off his chest and he took it. “Merlin is nothing like how he pretends to be. When I visited his mum, you should have seen him. He’s shy and quiet and—”

“This is _Merlin_ we’re talking about?” Leon had to ask incredulously.

“Yeah, I know. But it’s true. He told me everything. He said that to be a good Knight he had to change who he was. He said his madness and personality was all an act until after the riot. He thinks the riot ruined him.”

“It did. After the broadcast—”

“Exactly. That’s what Kilgharrah told me.”

Leon narrowed his eyes. “Kilgharrah didn’t contact us until a little over a year ago. That means he was keeping tabs on us even then. What exactly did he tell you?”

“Does the name Allison Stewart mean anything to you?”

Merlin had a plan of his own. He had run from one end of the city to the other, had been to all four corners and all the biggest neighbourhoods to spread the word. He had handed out markers and spray-paint cans and old-fashioned duct tape. He had even graffitied the acronym a few times himself, setting the example for those to follow. He had whispered from the rooftops to the alley dwellers below, like a devil on their shoulder:

“All cops are bastards. Let’s get rid of them.”

His own plan consisted of smoking the rest of his heroin until he passed out beside his hidden spring and returning the next morning with nobody being the wiser. He had assured Arthur that he could handle this, that the wall he’d built to keep the voices at bay would hold strong until afterwards when they could get him proper help. But as the riot date came closer and closer, Merlin felt the wall cracking beneath the pressure.

Every so often Merlin would hear or see something, a cry for help or a gaping wound in the face of someone on the street. Pieces of the July Riot kept bleeding through into everyday life, more frequently than ever before, and marijuana wasn’t cutting it anymore. He needed something stronger, crystal, heroin, ecstasy, anything. Everything he’d given up a year ago when they’d gotten the call from Kilgharrah and were told things were getting serious.

He knew exactly what he would need on the actual day of the riot, which is why he paid a visit to Will before heading to his cave.

“Merlin,” Will greeted his friend. “Last time I saw you, you were...well, you were pretty fucked up. What did you take, acid?”

“Nothing. I’ve got PTSD and I was having an episode,” Merlin replied blankly.

“Shit, really? That sucks, man. You alright?”

Merlin shrugged. “Fine. But I’m looking for a girl.”

Will tilted his head, puzzled. It was no secret Merlin was a poof through and through. Merlin raised his eyebrows meaningfully, then Will’s mouth made an “o” of understanding.

“Her name wouldn’t happen to be Molly, would it?”

Merlin grinned and nodded. “That’s the one.”

“Fifty.”

The scout pulled out a handful of coins. “How much for two?”

“For you, considering your mental affliction? Seventy-five.”

“You’re my favourite enabler,” Merlin remarked as he dropped the coins in Will’s hands. He bowed dramatically before turning to exit. “It’s been a pleasure.”

Merlin went straight to the cave. He magically refashioned his bowl into a glass pipe again and lit up. The rush came fairly quickly. He was completely out of his body, out of his mind, with thoughts of the wall and what lurked behind it far gone.

He couldn’t afford to nod off though; there was no time. When he felt himself start to drift he rolled over and plunged into the cold water next to him. Immediately he began to glow as his magic purged his body of the drug.

Merlin felt an improvement instantly. He lay floating on the surface of the water and closed his eyes as he let his magic do its work.

It was only seven minutes before he thought he heard someone say his name.

“Merlin?”

Merlin opened his eyes and turned instinctively toward the voice, but water got in his nose and he panicked. After a bit of splashing and coughing and treading water to get his bearings, he wiped the water from his eyes and opened them again. Lance was there, holding the empty heroin bag between thumb and forefinger.

“Lancelot?” Merlin gaped. “What the hell are you—” His gaze fell to the weird contraption on Lance’s leg. It was some sort of corrective device for his club foot, Merlin could tell right away. “What is—”

“This, Merlin,” Lance interrupted sternly, “is _not_ what weed looks like.”

Merlin wasn’t fully cleansed yet and treading water was tiring on his fatigued limbs. He hoisted himself out of the pool and tried to take the empty bag from Lance’s hand. Only, it wasn’t quite empty. There was still the smallest bit of light brown powder left in the corner. Nothing, really, not a significant enough amount that Merlin would miss it, but incriminating enough.

“You told Leon you stopped doing this. Pot is one thing, but _heroin_ , Merlin? And so close to—”

“Shut up!” Merlin shouted. “Give me that!” He lunged for it, but Lance was quicker and Merlin’s arms wouldn’t listen to his brain properly. How was club-footed, clumsy Lance quicker?

“See! It’s got you all muddled. How many of me do you see?” Lance challenged.

As if Merlin was going to answer that. The fact that everything was pulsating wasn’t helping either. “I’m not playing this game with you. Give that back before someone gets hurt.” Merlin gave up reaching and simply held out his hand.

But Lance wasn’t intimidated, not when he knew Merlin was weak. He turned and fled the cave faster than Merlin had ever seen him move before. Merlin was stunned just long enough to give the man a head start and by the time he thought to run after him he found he was too exhausted and out of it to follow. There was nothing to do but go back into the water and finish the cleansing. So he did.

Nearly half an hour later he reluctantly pulled himself out of the pool again. He only hoped Lancelot hadn’t noticed the glowing. He dried out his soaked clothes with magic and ran full speed back to the Castle.

On the way to his room he saw Arthur and Elyan coming from the opposite way, the door equal distance from them. They seemed to be in a rush but before Merlin could ask them anything, the door to his chambers slid open and Leon came storming out, followed by Lancelot and a crying Mother.

Leon saw Arthur and Elyan first. He explained what happened to them in a low voice, so quiet Merlin couldn’t make out the words. Merlin didn’t dare get any closer, just stood frozen to the spot, while Mother, who had noticed him right away, rushed over and hugged him close. Over her shoulder he saw Arthur’s eyes widen and then his jaw clench in anger. Elyan just shook his head.

“I...Mother?” Merlin said quietly.

Leon heard. He turned and shot Merlin a glare but didn’t say anything. He only pushed past Arthur and Elyan and left the rest of the Knights to deal with Merlin.

Mother’s tears were beginning to dampen Merlin’s shirt. He raised an arm and put it around her timidly. At his touch, she stiffened, and pulled back enough to look him in the eye.

“Oh, how could you, Merlin? I thought—everyone thought—you were doing so well!” Another wave of tears started up and she buried her face in his shoulder again to muffle the sobs. It made Merlin feel like he’d had his heart ripped out and he couldn’t help but tear up as well.

But he couldn’t cry just yet. After speaking a few words to Elyan, Arthur walked over with a hurt but angry look on his face. Elyan turned and left along with Lancelot, who seemed only a little bit sorry and a lot confused. Merlin would have to talk to him later about what he’d potentially seen.

“Mother,” Arthur said when he reached where they stood embracing, “I need to speak with Merlin, if you don’t mind.”

Mother took a step back and wiped her face with her sleeve. “Alright,” she said, sniffling. “You give it to him good, too.”

Arthur cracked a lightless smile. “Don’t worry. I will.” Merlin did _not_ like the sound of that.

“Arthur—”

“Shut up.” Merlin shut up. Arthur turned to enter their room and Merlin followed.

The place was a mess. Apparently Leon had turned the place inside out searching for any remaining drugs Merlin might have hidden. Merlin brushed past Arthur straight to his dresser—none there. He looked under the bed—none there. Under his pillow—nothing. The nightstand was just as cleaned out. Merlin suddenly wished he’d bought more molly.

“Looking for something?”

Merlin looked up from where he was searching under the bed—maybe he’d missed something—to see Arthur standing above him with his arms crossed. Merlin stood and wiped the dust from his front with as much dignity as he could muster. “It seems he was, er, very thorough.”

“Seems that way.”

“Arthur, let me exp—”

“I can’t even fucking believe you, Merlin,” Arthur snapped. “You told your mum you were done with it. You told _me_ you were done with it. I thought—I can deal with marijuana, Merlin. If it’s recreational and makes you feel a little better, fine. I don’t expect you to do it forever. But heroin? If you get addicted to heroin—”

“I won’t!”

“You can’t promise me that.”

Merlin opened his mouth to reply but didn’t have anything to say. He clamped his mouth shut and tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He’d done so many things that he regretted but of all of them, _this_ was what brought a look of disappointment to Arthur’s face. Merlin couldn’t bear to see that look on the face he loved so much.

He wanted to make it up to him, but how? He wanted to stop eventually, had only done heroin again tonight to finish off what he’d bought, and he did honestly want to cut down on the dope. He would, he _would,_ not just for Arthur but for himself. It was just to make the voices and the hallucinations stop, it was just for a little relief…

Merlin burst into tears. He sank to the floor at Arthur’s feet and wrapped his arms around Arthur’s legs.

“I’m sorry, Arthur,” he wailed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Mer-Merlin?” Arthur was taken aback. He’d seen Merlin cry before, but nothing like this, not on his hands and knees practically grovelling for forgiveness.

“I just wanted the screaming to stop,” Merlin continued. “I lied to you, about being alright, about the heroin, I lied and I’m sorry. I just wanted the screaming to stop. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Okay, Merlin, just...” Arthur sighed and stroked Merlin’s hair. “Get up, Merlin. Stop crying. Oh gods, if I forgive you, will you please stop crying?”

Merlin sniffled and looked up hopefully. “You mean it?”

Arthur was hesitant, but eventually he caved. “Yes, _Mer_ lin, even though I shouldn’t, I do. Now would you please stand up? This is pathetic, even for you.”

Trying to smile, Merlin wiped his face and got to his feet. He snapped his fingers and the room began putting itself back in order. The clothes folded themselves and floated into the dresser, the sheets tucked themselves under the mattress, and the blankets draped perfectly over the bed.

“Promise me you won’t do it again, Merlin.”

“I promise,” Merlin said quickly. “No more heroin.”

“The others won’t let you off as easily, though,” Arthur stated as the room finished putting itself to rights.

“I know.”

“I’m serious. Leon proposed not letting you leave until the day of the riot and I approved it. You’re to be with one of us at all times for the next three days so we can keep an eye on you.”

Merlin’s jaw dropped, but he quickly snapped it shut. “You’re _babysitting_ me? That’s ridiculous!”

“Especially since you were the one complaining about having to babysit _me_ not too long ago,” Arthur nodded with a momentary grin. “But what else can we do? We have to make sure there’s no chance you’ll hinder the plan.”

Merlin was speechless. The tears had barely dried on his face and now Arthur was dropping _this_ on him? “I—I can’t believe this. You think you can just come in here, take control, and then turn my family against me?”

“No, Merlin,” Arthur said sadly, “I’m afraid you did that yourself.”

“Ugh!” Merlin shoved Arthur’s stupid shoulders and caused him to stumble backwards, alarm on his face. “I didn’t—how could you even suggest—” Merlin could see Elyan in the corridor again, shaking his head with disappointment, heard Mother sobbing into his shoulder, and Lance had been shooting him curious glances...

Fuck. He’d forgotten all about Lance.

“Where the hell are you going?” Arthur demanded when Merlin spun on his heel for the door.

“Oh sod off, I’m just going to talk to Lance,” Merlin waved. “Or do you have to escort me?”

“Actually...”

“No way. What happened to trust?”

“I want to trust you, Merlin—”

“But?”

Arthur swallowed. “But I’m worried you’ll go off and buy more drugs.”

“You make it seem like I’m already some sort of addict,” Merlin said, burying the hurt he felt at Arthur’s lack of faith.

“Merlin. You rushed in here and went straight to each of your hiding places. You...You begged and pleaded for forgiveness. Now you’re acting defensive.”

“I am not acting defensive!” Merlin shouted defensively. “You want to walk me down the hallway? Fine. But don’t expect me to hold your hand.”

Arthur frowned. “I’m trying to do what’s right. Don’t make this hard for me.”

“You think this is hard, Arthur?” Merlin took a step forward, sneering in the way similar to the early days when he and Arthur antagonised each other. “I could make it a lot harder. I could keep you here with my magic, paralyse your limbs so you can’t move. I’ve _killed_ someone like that before. I cut them open and all they could do was stand there as their life slipped away. They couldn’t even fall down until I let them.”

The memory shot through Merlin’s mind and brought to light flickers of others murders, like a shooting star illuminating a field of corpses on a dark night. Merlin’s body felt heavy with the weight of burden and his hands began to twitch for something to grab onto.

“Merlin,” Arthur warned. Merlin saw Arthur’s pulse quicken in the thick vein on his neck. Merlin’s hands clenched and unclenched. What would it be like to feel Arthur’s heartbeat thrum against his tight grip? That neck was already claimed by Merlin’s bitemarks.

Merlin suddenly wanted to hold Arthur down and fuck him as roughly as he had the first time in the corridor.

“Don’t ‘Merlin’ me,” Merlin snapped gruffly, getting a hold on himself. “And don’t complain about me making anything difficult when you have _no idea_ what I can do.”

At this point Merlin was so close he was breathing the same air as Arthur and if he turned even the slightest bit their noses would touch. Arthur held Merlin’s fiery stare steadily, but Merlin could tell he was scared. He had seen that look in hundreds of faces before. Arthur could try to hide it, but Merlin was a killer. Fear was as much a part of him as breathing.

_Don’t hurt him,_ a small voice in Merlin’s head shouted. Merlin halted and saw a flicker of uncertainty cross over Arthur’s features. Oh gods, what had he been about to do? He couldn’t hurt Arthur. He couldn’t threaten _Arthur._

Before Merlin knew what he was doing he had his mouth locked on Arthur’s and desperate hands clamped on either side of Arthur’s skull.

“Mmrrwn!” Arthur tried pushing him away but Merlin was insistent and suddenly remarkably strong. Arthur felt himself being guided backwards until he hit a wall and—oh! This was all too familiar.

Arthur finally got a chance to speak when Merlin’s lips moved down to his neck. His pulse jumped under Merlin’s tongue. “Merlin, stop.”

Merlin grunted and pressed their bodies closer together. Arthur could feel the erection against his thigh and his own traitorous cock twitched with interest.

“ _Merlin_.”

“You know what else I can do, Arthur?” Merlin whispered in his ear, breath hot like a furnace.

“Now is not the time. What the hell’s gotten into—Fuck!”

Arthur’s body felt like it was thrumming with electricity. Suddenly his only thoughts were _want, need, fuck, more_. His half-hard cock filled quicker than ever and he couldn’t help but shamelessly grind back into Merlin.

“Yeah, Arthur, fuck, just—” Merlin released one hand to get at his trousers and Arthur’s shaking hands seemed to have a mind of their own as they mirrored the action. They let their pants fall to their knees before grabbing frantically at each other.

It felt like fireworks were going off inside Arthur’s body, or something like it. He could see what was happening but it was also as if he weren’t entirely there, like he had a back-seat view of his own mind.

Then the feelings began to creep in. There had been lust to begin with, but now there was anxiety, fear, rage, betrayal, and...gods, Arthur just wanted to get his hands on something, squeeze the life out of something, _anything_ , but that was wrong, no, he couldn’t do that, so he just threw everything into this, into sucking, kissing, stroking, grinding, and hopefully that would be enough...

Arthur had never felt anything like _that_ before. He’d never wanted to kill anybody. That’s what made him realise something wasn’t quite right.

“Merlin, is this...what have you done to me?”

“I’ve given you the gift of empathy, Arthur,” Merlin breathed hot across his lips. “Can you feel what I feel?”

Merlin squeezed his dick and started stroking it roughly as he slipped his tongue between Arthur’s suddenly gasping mouth. A wave of _want_ and _yes_ overcame Arthur and he found himself moaning into the filthy kiss. Arthur could feel Merlin jerking himself on his own cock, and when he added his hand the feeling increased twofold, as essentially there were two hands touching him. Merlin’s hips bucked against his own, making the friction just the right amount of pleasure spiked with pain, the dripping precome causing the slide to be wet and smooth and too good for the incongruity of the moment.

Arthur wanted but didn’t want, moaned because he _shouldn’t_ want this rough, uncontrollable Merlin taking over and conquering him. His own emotions mixed with Merlin’s in an indistinguishable whirlwind of feelings, most of which were _yes_ and _no_ blurred together somehow to form _more._

Arthur was so close to coming, and under normal circumstances he would have, but Merlin wasn’t there yet, and he was feeling everything that Merlin was.

That was just it: he was feeling everything that Merlin was. Without another thought, Arthur reached for Merlin’s balls and instantly Merlin cried out. As soon as he started coming, Arthur climaxed too.

There was another wave of fear because _no, don’t end, too soon, not ready yet_. Arthur felt his chest tighten and a heavy sense of dread settled over him. He needed something to take the edge off. If only he could get away for a couple tokes, but oh that’s right, there was no more weed left because he’d been betrayed by stupid fucking—

“Sorry.” The link was cut as soon as Merlin stopped touching him and Arthur took a deep breath as his thoughts became his own again. “I shouldn’t have...That was uncalled for.”

Merlin hadn’t even seen Arthur move, but the next thing he knew Arthur’s fist had connected with his face. There was a ringing ache in his cheekbone and his jaw was sore. The whole left side of his head throbbed in pain.

“Bloody _ow_!” Merlin shouted, holding his face in his hand.

Arthur gave him a look both awed and upset. “What the hell was that?”

Merlin looked away, suddenly shy. He didn’t know what had come over him, only that he’d lost his temper again and needed something to take it out on. “I was angry and I...I don’t know.”

“You wanted to kill someone,” Arthur said for him. “Only you knew you really shouldn’t. So you put all your energy into...whatever that was.”

“Angry sex?”

“Exactly.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Arthur grit his teeth and looked away. Merlin felt his stomach sink with dread but Arthur’s next words gave him hope. “I don’t think so? I mean, don’t get me wrong, if it saves a life, go for it. But...maybe a little warning next time?”

Merlin nodded, the movement painful on his jaw. “Okay.”

“And also, don’t ever do that empathy thing again. Your mind is a scary fucking place. Add to that the fact I had no idea what was going on at first...”

“Got it. Sorry, I just...acted on impulse.”

They righted their trousers then stood in awkward silence for a few tense moments. Sometimes Arthur wished Merlin would laugh incongruously and make everything easy like he had before he stopped putting on a mask for him. Arthur had asked for this though, to see Merlin in his truest form.

“Look, Merlin,” Arthur began, most of his anger faded, “I won’t escort you to Lance if you don’t want me to. Now that I’ve been inside your head...” He shuddered just remembering it.

“No, I want you there.” Merlin threaded his fingers easily between Arthur’s and graced him with a smile. “I might need you. For support.”

Arthur tilted his head in confusion. “Leon told me that Lance found you swimming in some cave on the other side of the Castle. Which did explain why your hair looked a bit wet when I first saw you.”

“Er, yeah. It’s something I do after I use any of the more heavy drugs or just to clear my mind. When I’m in the water—natural water, I mean, like lakes and rivers—my magic does this sort of...purge thing.” Merlin waved his fingers to indicate he really had no idea how it worked exactly. “Gaius thinks it’s because my magic makes me ‘one with nature’ or something and the elements are ‘protecting me.’” Merlin rolled his eyes, showing he didn’t put any real stock in the old man’s logic. Still, he couldn’t come up with a better explanation.

“So Lance saw you during this purge session of yours?”

“Yeah. And it would have been fine if it had looked like I really was just swimming. But I _glow_ when this happens. All the bad stuff seeps out of my pores in this, like, golden mist. It doesn’t seem like he said anything to anyone, except about the heroin obviously, but I want to ask, just to make sure.”

Arthur squeezed Merlin’s hand. “Better not waste any more time then.”

“Yeah.” Merlin rubbed his jaw and gingerly touched his cheekbone as they exited the room. “Did you really have to punch me?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “You’ll be fine.”

“And here I always thought you liked my face,” Merlin teased.

“Not after I’ve been used without my permission.”

Merlin’s expression contorted into one of pain. “Hey, I said I was—”

“Yeah, I know. I didn’t mean to bring it up again. Just drop it, yeah? We’re almost at Mother and Lance’s anyway.”

They rounded the corner and Merlin took a deep breath before knocking hesitantly on their door. Arthur squeezed his hand again and Merlin gave him a grateful look.

It was Mother they saw first. Lance was sitting on the bed with his back to them behind her, bent over and pulling at something.

“Mother,” Merlin greeted her. “I need to speak to Lance. If that’s alright?”

Mother looked at him curiously then shifted her gaze to Arthur. Lance, at hearing Merlin’s voice, stopped what he was doing and looked over his shoulder.

“It’s not like that,” Arthur reassured her. “Merlin’s not angry. Well, he is,” Arthur clarified after Merlin shot him an incredulous glance, “but this isn’t about...you know.”

“Come in,” Lance said from across the room. “I have something to say to Merlin as well.”

Merlin swallowed. Mother stepped out of their way and let them enter, her lips in a thin line and saying nothing.

“Sit.” Lance gestured to the chairs beside the bed.

“Does, um, Mother have to be here for this?” Merlin asked once he and Arthur were seated.

“You’d rather she left?”

“It’s just that—”

“I think we’ve all had enough of your secrets, Merlin,” Lance snapped. “If you have something to say to me, Gwen can hear it too.”

Lance was always so calm and carefree, nothing like this. Merlin’s hand clenched into a sweaty fist. Arthur reached over and uncurled it, finger by finger. Merlin took another deep breath.

“About what happened in the cave,” he began. “Did you...besides the heroin, I mean, was there...anything else you saw?”

Lance looked at Merlin evenly. “There was a lot of light.”

“From the candles.”

“No. From you.”

Merlin began to feel light-headed and his heart started racing. “Okay,” he breathed, “okay. Did you—”

“I didn’t tell Leon. Should I have?”

“No! I mean. No. Nobody except Arthur and Gaius know that I, er, glow. Sometimes.”

Mother gasped. “You what?”

Lance, who was never anything but polite to Gwen, ignored her. “That light is what drew me there in the first place. Elyan told me walk around with this boot,” Lance waved at the mechanical contraption Merlin had noticed earlier, “to get a feel for it. I thought I’d take a look around some of the more unused parts of the Castle. I saw this weird golden light coming from around the corner, and when I got there, imagine my surprise at seeing _you_.”

“Why _didn’t_ you tell Leon?” Arthur asked. “Not that I’m—we’re—not grateful.”

“You remember what Gaius told us: sometimes Merlin keeps secrets for a reason. That if it was something we needed to know, Merlin would tell us,” Lance answered. He looked back at Merlin. “I assumed this was one of those things.” Merlin swallowed thickly.

“I...it is. Thank you.”

Gwen wasn’t able to hold her tongue any longer. “What exactly is it? What do you mean you ‘glow’ sometimes?”

Arthur squeezed Merlin’s knee and nodded encouragingly when Merlin looked at him.

“Magic,” Merlin declared.

Mother laughed. “You can’t be serious.” Lance shot her a look and her smile faded. “You believe him?”

“You didn’t see what I saw,” Lance said. “But why didn’t you tell us sooner? We could have used this to our advantage.”

Merlin chuckled hollowly. “Oh believe me, I’ve been using it. There’s a reason Percival can’t beat me.”

Mother’s jaw dropped. “The time you punched the wall!”

Merlin nodded. “It’s also why there was no footage during the—” Screams. Merlin closed his eyes and willed them away. He pushed the thoughts back. “Even though there were people with mobiles at the—”

“July Riot,” Lance supplied.

Merlin exhaled. “Yeah. That was my magic. I knew Elyan could take care of the street cameras, but there was nothing he could do about handheld devices.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you never told us,” Mother pointed out. “Why you _still_ don’t want to tell us.”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Because he’s a freak,” Lance stated. Merlin felt suddenly hollow.

“Lance!” Gwen slapped his arm.

“I mean—Shit.”

“No, you’re right,” Merlin agreed with a deep breath. “Back in Ealdor I was ostracised. When I got to Camelot and joined the Knights, I wanted things to be different. People think I’m weird now because I _chose_ for them to. I have complete control over how people view me here.”

“I told you he was just different,” Gwen muttered to her partner.

“Oh no,” Merlin laughed, “I’m definitely a complete nutter.”

“Merlin,” Arthur warned.

“What?” Merlin feigned innocence. “It’s true. You should know that spectacularly well by now.” Arthur huffed and crossed his arms but said nothing.

“So when do you plan on telling the others?” Lance asked.

“I was hoping to hold it off another three days.”

“But we could use you in the planning!”

“I’ve always made my own plans,” Merlin declared shaking his head. “I don’t need anyone to tell me how to use my magic.”

“They still deserve to know,” Mother said. “We’re your family. We won’t think any differently of you.”

“You’ll be frightened of me.”

“They’re _already_ frightened of you.” Lance easily dodged Gwen’s blow, expecting it. “Well, they are!”

“I dunno,” Merlin shrugged noncommittally, “maybe.” At this point it was only Percival, Elyan, and Leon. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

“Alright, well. I guess I sort of understand why you’d keep such a big thing from us,” Lance said, “and it _is_ your business how you use it, and you _have_ been doing an okay job of using it for our cause, so...I suppose if you need us to keep this secret, we can.” He looked up at his girlfriend. “Can’t we, Guinevere?”

“Of course.” She swarmed in and pulled Merlin into a tight hug. This one was so different from the desperate embrace she’d given Merlin earlier and Merlin couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across his face. Then she had to ruin it by pinching his side and saying, “But no more drugs. I mean it!”

“Er...how about we compromise and say no highly addictive ones?” he ventured.

“No!” All three of them chorused.

“Come on!” Merlin groaned. He was about to say more when the door opened and Elyan appeared.

“Arthur, there you are. I found the—I found what we were looking for.” He filtered his speech upon noticing Merlin and everyone else couldn’t help but wonder what it was Arthur had asked Elyan to find.

“You did? That’s great! I’ll just—Merlin, stay here with them. I’ll be back soon, alright?” Arthur got up and left Merlin gaping after him.

“The hell?” Merlin started to stand but Lance and Mother stopped him.

“No, no, no, you heard Arthur. You sit right here until he gets back.”

“I can’t believe this.” Merlin crossed his arms. “I could easily get past you, you know. I’m hardly the druggie you think I am.”

Lance and Gwen shared an uneasy look. They didn’t exactly know the extent of Merlin’s magic, whether or not Merlin really could get past them without hurting anyone.

“Even so, Arthur did ask, and he’ll be very upset if you disobey him,” Gwen said.

“Arthur doesn’t own me.” Still, Merlin grit his teeth and looked away, determined to brood silently until Arthur came back for him.

Leon was there as well when they got back to Elyan’s chambers. Arthur carefully stepped over various cables and half-built machines that scattered the floor to reach the impressive array of monitors that took up the other side of the room.

“There she is.” Elyan pointed at the centre screen where Arthur saw the image of a young woman leaving her house. She had dark blonde hair and an oval face with too much makeup. Her hovercar was a newer model, and Arthur thought as she unlocked it and got in that she must have a well-paying job, albeit one that required her to leave right at sunrise.

“Her hair is longer than it was three years ago, and there’s worry lines on her forehead, but that’s definitely her,” Leon said. “Now we just have to figure out how to keep her away from Merlin.”

“It’s not the keeping away part I’m worried about,” Arthur replied. “She’s one girl out of thousands. It’s the getting her I’m worried about.”

“Getting her?” Elyan echoed. “Why would we need to get her? I thought the whole point was to _prevent_ another episode.” Leon looked at Arthur like he might have lost his mind himself.

“It’s part of the treatment process. At least it was for the Prots with PTSD at the tower,” Arthur explained. “After talking it out and going through grief counselling my sister would expose them to pictures of the streets. All those dead bodies piled up and...and mutilated, you know? It was to make sure they could handle it should it happen again. That they were really cured, so to speak.”

Leon nodded. “You want to keep tabs on her for when Merlin is ready.”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t know.” Elyan looked doubtful. “Will Merlin be strapped down for this? Taking a risk like this, especially with someone as dangerous as Merlin...”

Arthur didn’t mention that it would be utterly pointless to try to restrain Merlin, but Elyan did have a point. “It might be easier if we just, sort of, contain him. It didn’t seem to be a problem keeping him in one room the last time. If we try to strap him down or tie him up there’s a higher chance he’ll feel threatened and get violent. Even more violent than he already is,” Arthur appended.

“Alright,” Leon nodded, “we’ll keep an eye on her until the time is right. There was something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Sure.”

“Your sister. Does she still think you’re working for her? There had to be some way you were reporting back to the tower, right?”

“Oh. No, I’ve made it quite clear whose side I’m on.”

“That’s what I thought,” Elyan said. “But I’ve been watching the cameras outside the funeral parlour and around the entrances to Lower Camelot. It’s all suspiciously quiet.”

Arthur frowned and agreed. “She definitely would have sent _someone_ by now. Unless...”

“Unless she’s with us,” Leon finished.

“I don’t know.” Arthur rubbed the back of his neck uncertainly. “She told me she knows how wrong Father is about some things and that she’s working with some bloke named Kevin to make him see ‘the error of his ways’ and whatnot. But she’s always been loyal to him,” Arthur explained. Not to mention she’d said they’d have to kill Merlin and the rest of the Knights. “I think she’d prefer to change things from the inside rather than—”

“There she is!” Leon pointed to one of the screens Elyan always had switched to the news station. The morning news was just starting and it looked like the first story of the day was Morgana giving an interview in her office. “Turn it up.”

_“_ — _speculation about the graffiti seen recently all across the city. Do you believe it to be the work of the infamous Knights or could another gang have formed? The Knights have certainly never done anything this organised before.”_

Onscreen, Morgana didn’t miss a beat. _“It’s the Knights. Apart from the stunt they pulled in an alley a couple weeks ago, they’ve been relatively quiet. And even that event seems to have been the impulsive act of their youngest member, Merlin.”_ Morgana shook her head. _“It’s true they’ve never been this organised, but it’s definitely them. This is different from their random acts of vandalism. This acronym they’ve posted all over the city_ — _this ‘ACAB?’_ — _it’s like a calling card. They’re getting ready for something. But whatever it is, we’ll be ready. We’ve learned from our mistakes at the July Riot.”_

“That makes no sense,” Arthur despaired. “She knows exactly where we are. Why doesn’t she do something about it if she knows we’re up to something?”

“She could be gathering her forces,” Elyan suggested. “She knows we’ll have this place outfitted for maximum defence, there’s no way she’s sending in Prots to be mowed down by our machine guns.” An idea suddenly struck him. “Maybe she has a technician of her own! He could be trying to get into our database as we speak. Oh, I have _always_ wanted to go to cyberwar.”

“I suppose there is that,” Arthur considered. “The man she’s working with to win Father over, Kevin, he supposedly has eyes all over the city. I mean, absolute access to cameras, mobiles, anything with a microphone probably. He could be trying to get into our system and take down our weapons.”

“Which is exactly why we rely on old fashioned weaponry,” Leon stated proudly. “Much too easy to disable a laser pistol with a simple jammer. This Kevin will have a hard time getting through us.”

“That’s probably it. You saw my sister just now,” Arthur motioned to the screen where another story was running on the station. “There’s no way she’s on our side.”

Leon gulped audibly and seemed a bit hesitant to ask his next question. “What are you going to do with her then? I know you plan to kill your father but—”

“I’m not killing Morgana,” Arthur said firmly. “I’ll probably lock her up or keep her restrained to the top two floors of the tower. Either way, she’s been just as brainwashed as the rest of my father’s loyal followers. I can hardly kill her for that.”

“Alright, that settles the plan for the future. What’s the plan for now?” asked Leon. They both looked up at Arthur expectantly and Arthur felt the weight of their trust in him.

“Right now,” Arthur mused. “For right now, Elyan, you try to find any attacks on our system.”

“Search and destroy. Easy enough.” The techie nodded and turned to his keyboard.

“Also keep an eye on the cameras. We need to be ready in case of an attack,” he added.

“Always.”

“Leon, I’ll leave you in charge of letting everyone know what their jobs are on riot day. Make sure everything goes according to how we discussed it.”

“Alright. What about you?” Leon nodded.

Arthur sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ve got the hardest task of all. Dealing with Merlin.”

Merlin had a plan of his own. There were three days until the riot. Three long days that he had to be babysat by Mother or Arthur while everyone ran around making last minute preparations. Merlin would wait those three days. He would not make a clone to take his place so he could sneak off to see Gwaine or Will (though he’d certainly considered it once or twice).

Merlin would earn their trust back. He’d take the molly the morning of the riot so that by the time the fighting began he’d be ready to handle it. He’d struggle through the comedown then take the second molly before the fatigue started. By that time everything would have resolved itself and Merlin would have time to sneak out and do a last cleansing. _Then_ he’d start whatever treatment Arthur wanted him to do for his stress disorder. If that included giving up drugs, so be it. He didn’t want to be known as the dope-smoking Mad Scout forever anyways, and had already told Freya as much when he went to visit her after coming back from Ealdor.

Merlin had it all worked out when Arthur finally returned. Mother and Lance had let Merlin pout all he wanted, but they made it clear he wasn’t to try anything.

“Fucking finally!” Merlin shouted when Arthur entered.

Arthur paid Merlin’s outburst no mind. “Come on. We’re going to bed,” he beckoned.

Merlin’s brow furrowed but he shrugged and hurried to catch up with Arthur already walking down the corridor. He gave Lance and Mother a last wave and skipped out.

“What did Elyan need you for?”

Arthur took hold of Merlin’s hand. Sitting still so long had made him jumpy and restless, but Arthur’s hand helped and Arthur seemed to know it. “Morgana hasn’t sent anyone here yet. Elyan, Leon, and I were talking about what that could possibly mean.”

“That is strange.”

“Yeah.”

“So what did you decide it means?”

“She’s trying to take us down from the inside by getting into our tech. Which is good. It means she’s taking us seriously. It’s is something my father never would have done.”

“Um. Explain to me why that’s good again?”

“Because. _It’s something my father never would have done._ It means she hasn’t told him about me turning traitor. Otherwise, we’d have to fight right away.”

“Ah. Okay.”

They reached their shared chambers and entered. Merlin stripped to his pants and jumped into bed. Arthur followed suit, told the lights to turn off, and curled around Merlin under the soft blanket.

Merlin was almost asleep when he let his mind drift a little too far and a sudden howl of agony made him bolt upright. In the dark it was hard to determine if the screaming was real or imagined, but Arthur’s yawn beside him indicated he hadn’t heard it, so it must have been in his mind again.

Merlin conjured a small blue ball of light and immediately saw Arthur’s questioning gaze, eyes squinting in the bright glow. He guided the light around the room until he eyed his headphones and with a flick of his wrist, they began to levitate to him. He switched them on, put them over his ears to block everything out, and lay back down to sleep curled up in Arthur’s protective warmth.

Merlin was back in the forest with Arthur.

“How do you think the clouds stay up?”

Arthur blinked. “What?”

“The clouds. Why don’t they fall down?” Merlin asked again.

“I...I don’t know. You make them stay up?”

“I do?” Merlin frowned.

“I dunno. It must be you. And your magic. I mean, your magic must be keeping them afloat.”

“Then who kept them up before I was born?”

“Your father. I dunno. Someone. Maybe that cabbie that brought us here.”

Merlin breathed in deeply and smelled the rich scent of the earth beneath him, felt the fading life in the dying trees, heard the chittering of a squirrel as it stored a last few nuts away for the coming winter. He closed his eyes and simply breathed and it was as though the whole world breathed with him. His mind was clear, attuned with something bigger than himself, the same way it was when he cleansed himself in the water.

“Merlin.”

He opened his eyes and turned to face Arthur. Arthur was glowing, just liked Merlin glowed except there was no mist rising from his body. Arthur’s glow was pure, as if the light was coming from deep within rather than as the result of expelling uncleanliness. Merlin didn’t dare touch such purity, not with his bloodied hands.

But Arthur said it again. “Merlin.” This time it was with a hint of irritation, the same tone Arthur got when Merlin didn’t do something quick enough.

Merlin didn’t know what to do. What did Arthur want? How could he stop Arthur’s face from getting those lines of annoyance and that smirk and—

“—you fucking _freak_.” Arthur’s lips hadn’t moved but Merlin heard his voice all too clearly. The words echoed painfully in Merlin’s head as though he were standing in a bottomless cave. “...not worth the effort...sleep in the same room as...some nutjob druggie is going to slit my throat at night—”

“Shut up!” Merlin put his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut but Arthur’s voice was still there, ringing in the dark wasteland of his mind.

“Are you always like this...Delirious?”

Merlin kept his eyes closed and his ears covered, chanting “shut up shut up shut up” until there was nothing but silence. Merlin slowly removed his hands from his ears but didn’t open his eyes just yet. Then he heard the soft sound of trickling water and finally dared to look.

He was in his cave. The candles flickered long shadows across the walls and the steady drip of water caused ripples in the pool. Merlin exhaled in relief. Here, at least, he was safe. Here he was free from—

“What’s a skinny little freak like you doing fighting with the big boys?”

Merlin spun on his heel and promptly had the wind knocked out of him as he was pushed backwards. He fell on his arse and scrambled back to his feet. The Prot was grinning at him like he was some new toy and Merlin briefly glanced down at his nameplate. “D. Stewart.”

“Why don’t you run along home before you—”

In a whirlwind of pale limbs and magical strength, Merlin jumped behind him and twisted his neck. D. Stewart fell lifeless to the ground still with that shit-eating grin on his stupid Protty face. Merlin felt a flare of anger and kicked the boy’s teeth in. He kept kicking until kicking became stomping and a terrible crunching noise filled Merlin’s ears.

Then there was Arthur’s voice again. “Merlin?”

Merlin looked over his shoulder. Arthur had an amused smile on his face, as if silently asking what crazy thing Merlin was up to now.

“What are you doing, Merlin?”

“I was...” However, when Merlin turned back around, D. Stewart was nowhere to be found, only a series of hard footprints on the stone. “I...”

Arthur sighed dramatically and when Merlin turned again Arthur was much closer, was reaching out to stroke Merlin’s cheek fondly. “Were you hallucinating _again,_ Merlin?”

Merlin closed his eyes and leaned into Arthur’s soothing touch. “I...yeah. I guess I was.” But Arthur was here now. Arthur would make everything better.

“It’s alright, love, I’m here.” Arthur pulled Merlin into his arms and rubbed circles into Merlin’s back. “I’ve got you.”

He kissed Merlin’s temple and Merlin lifted his face for a real kiss. Arthur smiled and gave it to him, opened his mouth to deepen it, and it was warm, it was like coming home, until suddenly Arthur went completely still.

“Arthur?” Merlin pulled back. Arthur’s eyes had lost their vibrancy, the electric blue dulled to almost white. His face was pale, his lips dry and chapped. “Arthur!”

Merlin let go abruptly and Arthur fell like a ragdoll from his arms. He couldn’t be dead, not Arthur.

“No,” Merlin sobbed. “No. No! No, no, no, no!”

Suddenly there were hands grabbing him and he fought to shake them off. Everything had gone dark and he was drenched in sweat and it felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Merlin!” It was Arthur.

Merlin froze. Arthur was alive. “A-Arthur?” Merlin sought out his lover in the dark. He didn’t have to go far; Arthur’s arms were around him as soon as Merlin showed signs of being calm. “Arthur.” Merlin buried his face in the muscular chest. “Please tell me you’re real. Tell me—tell me you love me.”

“It’s okay, Merlin.” Arthur stroked Merlin’s hair. “I’m real. I love you. It was just a nightmare.”

“I can’t—I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to—”

“What? What can’t you do, Merlin?”

“Live. I can’t live.”

Arthur was furious. “Don’t ever say that, Merlin. Don’t even think about—Gods, I don’t know what I’d even do without you. What would any of us do without you, Merlin?”

Merlin shrunk in on himself and remained silent.

“What are you afraid of?” Arthur asked. “What’s your greatest fear?”

That was easy. “Forgetting who I am. Not knowing what’s real,” he murmured into Arthur’s chest.

“Mine is losing you. Just the thought of—I can’t believe you’d even consider—”

“I’m sorry.” Merlin hugged Arthur tighter. “I-I didn’t mean it. I just want it all to go away.”

“I know. Come on, lay down.” Arthur moved them gently back until they were horizontal again. Merlin repositioned his arm so it wouldn’t get crushed by Arthur’s weight and lay with his ear to Arthur’s heart.

“I don’t want to go back to sleep.”

“You’ll be fine.” Arthur rubbed Merlin’s arm. “Just listen to my voice.” Merlin pressed his face closer and felt the hum of vibration as Arthur spoke. “Focus only on my voice, alright?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Okay. Relax all your muscles. Let the tension go. Even the muscles in your face, Merlin. I know you’re still frowning.”

Not anymore. That made Merlin smile and he had to start all over with the relaxing bit. Finally, he let his entire body go limp.

“That’s it, Merlin. Now, I’m going to repeat something over and over until you fall asleep. Don’t think about anything else. Just focus on my voice,” Arthur reiterated.

“Mmhmm.”

“I love you. I love you. I love you...”

When Merlin next opened his eyes, Arthur was shaking him gently awake. Merlin had a surprisingly dreamless sleep after Arthur had lulled him. He woke now feeling well-rested and all cried out.

“Hmm?”

“Dinner, Merlin. Then we’re going out.”

“Out? I thought Leon said—”

“I already talked to him about it.”

Merlin stretched and got up. He put on his trousers from the day before so he wouldn’t have to worry about sneaking the molly out of his pockets. Arthur didn’t bring up the previous night and Merlin was grateful.

“Where are we going tonight?” he asked as he pulled on a thin jumper.

“There’s something I need to ask Freya,” Arthur answered. “And it never hurts to spread the word a little more. The more people off the streets and at the pub during the riot, the better.”

“Yeah.” Merlin picked up their headsets from off the dresser and walked towards the door. “Freya’s, huh? What do you need to ask her?”

“Couple things. Like where she’ll be during the riot for one.” Arthur followed him and they headed for the main atrium.

“Won’t she be...” Merlin frowned, handing Arthur his earpiece. “Hmm. Now that I think about it, she’ll have to be at her club, won’t she?”

“Yeah. I was hoping she could close it for the day and come to the Rising Sun with the rest of them, but it might be suspicious. Especially if this Kevin bloke working for my sister has eyes and ears all over the city. The last thing I want is for Freya to get picked up while on the way to the pub.”

“That is a bit of a problem.”

Dinner went as usual with nobody remarking on Merlin’s incident the day before. Leon was always quiet at mealtimes (along with Gaius whenever the man decided to dine with them) so nothing was out of the ordinary when Leon didn’t say much. He did, however, cast a few curious glances Merlin’s way that Merlin expertly ignored.

Merlin tried to remain as natural as possible walking through Lower Camelot, especially when passersby acknowledged him with a shaky smile and a wave. He couldn’t help but wonder who would be dead in a few days and who would be back to smile and wave once it was all over. A few of them looked dead already, but Merlin knew it wasn’t real. It was just the wall in his mind cracking without the drugs to hold it together.

When they reached the cold air above ground, Merlin looked at the rooftops longingly, but Arthur took Merlin’s hand and squeezed it firmly. It seemed to take forever to get to Freya’s club.

Freya was happy to see them.

“Merlin!” She embraced both of them in a tight hug before pulling back. “And Arthur. How are you both?”

“Great,” Merlin replied automatically. His smile didn’t seem to convince Freya though.

“Back so soon then?” she said, looking as though she wanted to ask more.

“Actually I’m here because Arthur wanted to ask you something.”

Freya turned her gaze to the blond. “Oh? Alright then, let’s go inside.”

They walked through the dimly lit club, flashing lights and smoke clouding their vision. When they got to the private back room, Freya took a seat at the table and the two of them sat across from her.

“It’s about Merlin,” Arthur said, causing Merlin to start with alarm and stare at Arthur incredulously. “I figured you would know and, more importantly, would tell me.”

Freya’s brow furrowed. “What is it that Merlin won’t tell you?”

“I need to know who his dealers are—”

“Arthur!”

“—so I can tell them to stop selling to him.”

Merlin got up to leave but Arthur held him with a firm grip on his arm. “I can’t believe this,” Merlin grumbled. “This is ridiculous.”

“No, Merlin, this is for your own good.”

Merlin huffed but crossed his arms and brooded silently.

“I know there’s Gwaine but is there anyone else?” Arthur continued.

Freya looked between the two of them before replying. “Will.”

Arthur looked to Merlin who was still chewing his lip furiously and staring pointedly away. “Is that who you were with on the fourth?” Arthur asked, referring to the fourth of November as the day Merlin had his episode.

“Yes,” Merlin said bitingly.

“Okay.” Arthur turned back to Freya. “Is that all?”

“As far as I know. Gwaine sells marijuana, and LSD when he can get his hands on it. Will deals more with ecstasy, heroin, and crystal.”

This was ridiculous. Merlin wasn’t even going to buy any more drugs anyways. He’d resolved to stop for the riot, for Arthur, for _himself._ Who the hell did Arthur think he was sneaking around Merlin’s back like this?

Merlin got up. “This is stupid,” he nearly shouted.

“Merlin, come back here,” Arthur demanded and leaned over to pull Merlin back.

Merlin easily sidestepped Arthur’s hand. “Fuck you, Arthur. I should have known you’d try something like this. You’re a deceitful bastard that thinks he knows how to fix everything.”

“Merlin!”

“Don’t worry, I’m going back to the Castle. You told Leon you wouldn’t let me leave until the riot anyways, might as well make good on your own promises.” Merlin ran out before Arthur could stop him.

Arthur let his head fall to the table with a dull thud and groaned. “How do you deal with him?”

Freya pet Arthur’s hair. “He’s a good lad, really. Just has a bit of a temper.” She pulled her hand back and folded them across her lap. “Perhaps tricking him into coming here wasn’t the best idea,” she said gently.

Arthur raised his head and looked up at her. “I know,” he sighed. “I just want what’s best for him. I don’t want him relying on drugs for the rest of his life.”

“None of us do. Even Merlin.”

Arthur quirked a brow.

“The last time he was here, he told me so himself. Said he wants to stop.” Freya laughed humourlessly. “Except for the spliff. He said he never wanted to fully give up that, but he does want to stop smoking it like normal people smoke cigarettes and only do it occasionally.”

Arthur sat up. “When was the last time he was here?”

“A few days ago, right after he got back from visiting his mum.”

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose and frowned. “And he didn’t tell me any of this?”

Freya shrugged. “Maybe he’s ashamed enough as it is.”

“But he tells me everything. At least I thought he did.” After all they’d been through, Merlin really couldn’t tell Arthur about his plans to stop using? If anything, Merlin should have thought Arthur would be proud.

“It’s not you. Merlin doesn’t tell anyone everything. We all know bits and pieces but we never get to see the whole picture. Merlin doesn’t...well, he doesn’t put all his eggs in one basket, so to speak.”

“Right. How am I supposed to love someone like that?” Arthur said miserably. He hadn’t exactly planned on coming here to mope with Freya, and yet that’s what ended up happening.

“Before you left...” Freya bit her lip, seemingly not certain whether she should continue or not. Arthur urged her on with a nod. “Merlin called me his sister. He said that the first person he thinks of when he thinks of home is me. _Me,_ Arthur. I’ve known him for years and I still don’t know all there is to know about him. And I’m betting when you went to visit his mother there were things even she didn’t know.”

Arthur nodded solemnly. There were still things Hunith was ignorant about, some things Arthur was certain Merlin would never tell her.

“You haven’t been in the Knights very long, Arthur. You’re lucky Merlin has even let you in as much as he has.”

He supposed Freya was right. She didn’t even know about Merlin’s PTSD or how Arthur had had to soothe Merlin to sleep after particularly bad nightmares. Among all of Merlin’s friends, Arthur was actually quite privileged. And now that Arthur thought about it, wasn’t having trust issues part of the disorder?

“I guess...the best thing I can do now is just trust that he’ll do the right thing,” Arthur stated, not liking the idea one bit.

“That’s all any of us have ever been able to do.” Freya placed a friendly hand over Arthur’s fist and squeezed gently. “It’ll all work out in the end.”

She looked as though she had something else to say so Arthur waited patiently. He shifted uncomfortably under her intense gaze, and wanted to take his hand back but didn’t.

“You’re different than you were before,” she finally said, and Arthur looked up to meet her eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“You were…I don’t know…you seemed very young the first time I met you. Now you have that quiet sadness, like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

“Not the world, thankfully. Just the city.”

“I don’t know you very well, but…you seem to be good for Merlin. I’m proud of him and I’ll be proud of you, whatever happens on the first of December.”

Arthur blushed at the compliment. “I…thank you. That’s actually the other thing I need to speak with you about. The secret meeting at the Rising Sun in two days. Will you be there?”

Freya frowned. “I—”

“That will be the safest place in the city.”

“I can’t. I have a room downstairs I can hide in if I need to, but I can’t close. It would be too suspicious.”

“I understand. This room, is it...?”

“It’s safe. If they want to get in they’ll have to drill through.”

Arthur nodded, satisfied. “Good. I don’t want any unnecessary casualties.”

Freya didn’t say anything to that but her soft hold on his hand tightened so Arthur looked up. She was biting her lip again and frowning. Arthur didn’t have to ask what was wrong. He was worried about what Merlin would do, too.

“He knows,” Arthur assured her. “He said he’ll try. But I’ll speak with him again. That seems to be all we ever do lately.”

Arthur froze. Maybe that was the problem.

It was always good to feel the wind beat against his cheeks, no matter how cold and biting. It was always refreshing to feel the burn in his muscles as he pushed himself faster and vaulted from rooftop to rooftop. Merlin loved just letting his legs take him places, to throw his body through the air with careless precision. He loved running on top of the world.

“FUCK YOU PENDRAGON!” Merlin shouted into the early winter wind. Cheers from the alley below rose up to meet him and he threw his head back and laughed. He couldn’t say for sure though if his outburst was directed at Arthur or his tyrant of a father.

Merlin stayed true to his word; he went straight back to the Castle. He stopped by Gaius’s room for a book and went in search of Mother, to prove he wasn’t as terrible a person everyone seemed to believe he was. She was in her room and was surprised to see him, but let him in.

“Arthur’s still out. Told me to wait here,” he said and plopped into a chair. He beckoned another over with his finger and it came to him. He propped his feet up and was about to start reading when he caught sight of Mother’s expression. “What?”

“Oh, sorry.” She smiled shyly and went back to folding clothes. “Just...the whole magic thing. I forgot.”

Merlin didn’t know what to say to that so he shrugged and began reading.

Merlin loved reading. He’d loved it when he was younger in Ealdor and how it let him escape from the teasing remarks that echoed in his head. He’d loved it when he had first come to Camelot and had nowhere to sleep, even if the books in the library weren’t _real_ books, but electronic like everything else. And he’d especially loved it after the July Riot, when escaping reality became his primary life goal.

It had been so long since he’d properly lost himself in a book. It was near impossible to focus on anything literary while high, so Merlin had simply taken a holiday from the activity. Now he remembered how much he enjoyed it and didn’t notice when Arthur entered only an hour later.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you read before,” Arthur said, startling Merlin out of his world. “In fact, I was beginning to think Gaius was playing one on me.” Merlin remained silent as Arthur walked over and stroked his hair. “You didn’t hear me over the headset?”

Merlin shook his head, jostling Arthur’s hand. “No. I turned it off.”

Arthur frowned but didn’t comment on it. “Well, come on, you’re bothering Mother and Lance.”

“Lance?” Merlin looked around and sure enough Lance was across the room fiddling with his new boot, adjusting the straps. “When did you get here?”

Lance chuckled. “Not too long ago. I’m not surprised you didn’t notice though. You had this look of deep concentration on your face. Weird seeing it on you, if you ask me.”

Merlin looked away, suddenly shy. Arthur took his hand and led him back to their room. Merlin opened the book in his other hand and read it as he was pulled along.

“Merlin.”

Merlin looked up. Arthur’s voice had the same quality it did in his dream the previous night. He nearly dropped the book when he saw the way Arthur was looking at him.

Then Arthur reached out to caress his cheek and pulled him into a kiss and Merlin _did_ drop the book.

Merlin didn’t know what had happened at first but then decided _fuck it_ , and kissed back just as passionately. Arthur curled his arm around Merlin’s waist and grabbed the back of Merlin’s neck, licking into Merlin’s mouth. Arthur’s fingers dug into his scalp and there must have been a hidden nerve ending there or _something_ because Merlin felt a jolt of arousal shoot straight down his spine.

Arthur pulled away, smiling victoriously, and Merlin took in large lungfuls of breath. “Where the hell did that come from?” Merlin asked, pressing his forehead to Arthur’s.

“Freya told me what you said.”

“I don’t...what did I say? I might have been a bit high at the time.”

Arthur snorted. “Of course you were. She told me that you planned to give up using.”

“I...yeah. That night, when Lance found me? I was just going to finish off the last of the heroin, you know, not let it go to waste. I mean, I was also really fucked up and starting to see things again, but it was mainly so I could just have one last hurrah before I finally quit.”

Arthur kept threading his fingers in Merlin’s hair and it felt good. His hair had gotten longer—he usually grew it out during winter anyways—and it seemed Arthur liked it. Merlin sighed and let himself bask in Arthur’s approval.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It didn’t seem to matter much in light of everything else that’s going on.”

“Oh Merlin, you’re such an idiot,” Arthur said without heat. “I want to know any and everything about you. If you have a bloody hangnail or a sore throat I want to know. I want to live and breathe Merlin Emrys, is that clear?”

Merlin thrust his chin forward and smashed their lips together again. He let all his happiness melt into the kiss and clutched Arthur to him hard enough to hurt. Arthur moved just the slightest bit, placing his feet farther apart to steady himself, and his thigh ended up perfectly between Merlin’s legs. Merlin moaned and in a sudden flurry of limbs rid Arthur of his shirt.

If it were up to Merlin, Arthur would go around shirtless all the time. Arthur was really a thing of beauty, a golden god that Merlin had all to himself. Merlin loved him so much he could cry.

Merlin latched his lips onto Arthur’s nipple and drew out a sharp inhale. Arthur’s fingers in his hair gripped harder and Merlin felt another flare of desire. He quickly straightened himself to shed his own clothes and Arthur was just as naked by the time he did.

Merlin wasn’t sure if the bed had always been that close or if he’d unknowingly magicked it closer. Either way, all Merlin had to do was give Arthur a little nudge and he promptly fell backwards onto the mattress. Merlin straddled him and returned to kissing all over Arthur’s beautiful chest.

He eventually made his way back up to Arthur’s lips though, at the insistence of Arthur’s pulling on his ears. Arthur’s hands swept over his skin down his back and grabbed fistfuls of his arse, just the way he knew Merlin loved it, and Merlin rolled his hips forward, their cocks brushing in a moment of friction. Merlin thrust his arm out to the side and immediately the bottle of lube flung itself into his waiting hand.

“Wait,” Arthur stopped him. Merlin gave him a searching glance as Arthur took the bottle from him and slowly poured it onto Merlin’s palm. “I was thinking…this time…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, just lowered Merlin’s newly slickened fingers to his own entrance. And then Merlin understood.

“You want me to—“

“Yeah. If you want to, as well, that is.”

“Fuck yes I want to.”

Arthur huffed a laugh. “Good.” He wet his lips. “It’s my first time, mind you, so—“

“Of course. Gentle for my princess,” Merlin joked fondly and teased the rim of Arthur’s hole.

Arthur gasped and his retort was satisfyingly breathless. “Call me that again and I’ll change my mind.”

Merlin leaned forward and briefly lost himself in Arthur’s parted lips. “I’m sorry. I won’t say it anymore.” A corner of Merlin’s mouth tilted. “Remember when you hated me?”

Merlin nudged his finger forward just a bit while Arthur was distracted by the question. Arthur was relaxed from the kiss and it slid in easily, even after Arthur’s breath hitched and he tightened on instinct.

“I never hated you,” Arthur chuckled. “If anything, _you_ hated _me_.”

“Did not!”

“Oh? Who’s this then: If ye touch me stuff, I’ll take yer bollocks and shove ‘em down yer throat.”

Merlin laughed and rotated his buried finger. Arthur moaned. “That is so not what I sound like.”

“When you’re high, you do.”

“Alright, well. I still never hated you. Let’s call it anger at lusting after something I thought I’d never have.”

“Wanted me right from the start then, did you?”

“You know I did.” Merlin bent his neck to suck the head of Arthur’s cock. Already Merlin could taste bitter precome as he flicked his tongue against the leaking slit.

Arthur clenched around Merlin’s finger. “Fuck, Merlin. Let’s hurry this up, yeah?”

Merlin didn’t want to hurt Arthur but he also had a feeling Arthur could take a little pain. He nodded and added another digit, quickly stretching Arthur’s hole. When he scissored his fingers, it drew the filthiest moans and Arthur’s hands suddenly came up to clutch Merlin’s shoulder. His thumb dug painfully into Merlin’s collarbone but Merlin couldn’t find it in himself to care.

And then the heel of Arthur’s foot was rubbing insistently on the back of Merlin’s thigh. “Come on, Merlin, please, just—“

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more ready in my entire life, Merlin, come on, _come on_!”

Merlin’s cock twitched at the shameless desperation in Arthur’s voice and he pulled his fingers out as he raised himself into a steadier position on his knees. He was already lined up and about to push in when he stopped.

“ _Mer_ lin!”

“Sorry, it’s just…I don’t have…”

“ _What?_ ”

“Condom?”

“Oh my gods, Merlin, do I really look like a care right now?”

Merlin gaped. “You don’t know what I could have! I’ve been with some rather shady blokes, you know.”

Arthur looked exasperated. “Alright, fine. Are you clean?”

“Yes…”

“Great. Now that that’s cleared up, will you _please_ fuck me already?”

Merlin chuckled as Arthur bucked his hips. “Even I wasn’t this bossy.”

Arthur seemed about to reply but Merlin cut him off as he began sliding in. It began with a nudge against Arthur’s stretched entrance and Merlin gasped as he cleared the first ring of muscle. He watched in awe as he went deeper and Arthur’s body accepted him easily, hugging his cock greedily.

When he looked up, Arthur was similarly breathless. They laughed giddily as Merlin paused with his cock fully sheathed. There was no layer between them and Merlin could feel every subtle movement Arthur made.

Merlin leaned forward, propping himself on his elbows above Arthur’s prone body, and met Arthur for the kiss his lips wanted. They were touching from pelvis to mouth, truly one, and Merlin had never been happier in his entire life.

“How do you feel?” Arthur asked.

“Amazing,” Merlin sighed into Arthur’s neck. “You?”

Arthur’s hands trailed up Merlin’s spine, palms flat and broad. Arthur hummed and rolled his hips so that Merlin slid out just a bit and then back in without Merlin having moved at all. “This is more about you.”

“You were the one just begging me to get inside a moment ago.”

“I may have lost sight of the goal in the heat of the moment.”

Merlin raised up and met Arthur’s eyes. “And what was the goal exactly?”

Arthur’s hand cradled Merlin’s cheek. “You’ve been sad, distant, since Ealdor. I don’t want Freya’s Merlin, or Hunith’s Merlin, or the Mad Scout. I want _my_ Merlin. I want to see a smile that’s not the result of weed and I don’t want you to feel like drugs are the only way to feel happy. I want to be enough for you. I want to give you everything you need. That’s why…I thought…”

_That’s why you let me fuck you._ “Arthur,” Merlin nearly sobbed into his neck. He pulled Arthur up into his arms, embraced him tightly, and thrust upwards, fucking him as he chanted, “You are, you are enough, you _are_ , you _are_ …”

It was a moderate tempo at first, each slide of Merlin’s cock plunging deep into Arthur as they rocked back and forth together. But then it was frantic as emotions spilled over and Arthur bounced on Merlin’s dick, gasps of breath hot in Merlin’s ear.

Merlin couldn’t last much longer, not when he felt Arthur’s love down to his very core, not when he remembered again that there were no barriers between their bodies. He unwrapped an arm from around Arthur’s sweating back and gripped the cock sandwiched between them. Arthur threw his head back at the first touch, exposing the long line of his throat and Merlin had no choice but to dart forward and leave his mark there again. Merlin’s lips felt the vibration of Arthur’s moan.

He sucked Arthur’s neck as he stroked his cock and all three sensations brought Arthur off quickly. Arthur’s arse clenched around Merlin and wrung out Merlin’s own orgasm. Merlin held tight as he throbbed his release inside, his entire body thrumming in tune with Arthur.

Merlin didn’t even realise he had fallen forward onto Arthur until Arthur grunted and shifted his legs beneath him. He pulled out and collapsed again off to his side.

Merlin looked up at Arthur with a blinding smile. Arthur was sweating a bit, not as much as Merlin, but enough for a few strands of hair to be stuck to his forehead. Merlin propped himself up on his elbow and pushed Arthur’s fringe out of his eyes before leaning over to kiss him again.

“Thank you,” he whispered against Arthur’s lips. Merlin had never been this happy when he was sober in his entire life. Not when he was young and practising magic in the forest, not when he was running and on top of the whole world. Arthur made him feel like he was flying.

Arthur swept aside Merlin’s own damp hair, grinning back up at him with infinite affection. “Any time, Merlin.”

The first thing Merlin did when he woke up on the night of the riot was take a molly. He had read the night before and even indulged in Arthur’s body a few more times, but nothing save ecstasy would get him through the actual event. Molly would take the edge off.

The high crept in slowly. Merlin felt his normal self all through dinner and all the way to the pub. It was only when Arthur stepped up on the stage which usually featured live bands that Merlin’s blood began to pump with more than the called for adrenaline.

“You’re all here because you’ve seen the message around the city,” Arthur said into the microphone secured to his collar. “Most of you have probably even tagged it yourself: All cops are bastards!”

A cheer rose through the crowd and the people in front pumped their fist in the air, shouting “Yeah!”

“Tonight we take back the city,” Arthur continued, his voice strong and clear. “Uther Pendragon and his so called Protectors have had us under their thumb for too long. The time for change is now, tonight!”

Another cheer went up as they echoed Arthur’s words: “Tonight!” and “Yeah!” and even a few “Down with Pendragon!” Arthur glanced behind him at the row of Knights and Merlin gave him a wide grin and a thumbs up. Gaius, Percival, and Lance all nodded encouragingly and Leon simply smiled with pride at the leader he felt he had helped create. Mother was at the back of the pub, feeling out the atmosphere, and would relay anything important on the headsets. Elyan was still at the Castle, maintaining the electric grid.

Arthur turned back around to face the crowd. Hundreds of impoverished, sunken faces looked up at him with gleaming hope in their eyes. A select few eyed him warily, but Arthur knew who they really were, and had plans for even them.

“This meeting marks the beginning of a revolution. While most of the Knights and I stand guard at the doors, the remaining two will make the rounds and take note of all your complaints, your comments, anything you have to say about the current government. When we finally take control, this will be the list we come back to time and again. It will be _your_ voices that are broadcast through the city, not the voice of a self-proclaimed dictator and his army of puppets.”

The mounting tension in the building seeped into Merlin’s bones and his heart began to beat furiously. He tried to keep from tapping his foot, from bouncing and snapping his fingers. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of his face and he quickly wiped it away. Gaius beside him gave him a look, but Merlin didn’t see it. All he saw was Arthur’s strong back, his muscled arm raised high above his head as he rallied the citizens of Camelot, and he longed for the fighting to start.

Merlin missed the last thing Arthur said, his blood was pumping so hard through his ears, but he heard the resulting cheer and his body felt as if it were a coil pulled taut and ready to spring forward. Then Arthur looked behind him again and nodded. Merlin bolted from the pub with Lance, Percival, and Leon to wait for Arthur outside. Together they would run through Lower Camelot up to the surface and fight the army of reds that was sure to have amassed there.

Arthur and Gaius were the only ones remaining on stage. Gaius held the tablet in his hands, ready to record every comment each citizen had to offer. Mother would stay with him.

Arthur was about to turn and leave himself when a lone voice from the crowd called out, “Wait! Who are you?” Arthur stopped and looked for the source of the question. He found it when the man spoke again. “You can’t have been a Knight for long. How is it you’re already their leader?”

The man was an Infiltrator. He wasn’t the only one of his kind here, which was one reason why they were going to lock the doors behind them.

Arthur quirked a brow and regarded the question as if it were the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. Just when the crowd began to shift uneasily, Arthur pointed to his head and said, “Didn’t you notice the blond hair?” Already a couple gasps went up, but Arthur continued. He gave them a manic smile Merlin would have been proud of. “I’m Arthur Pendragon. I’m the fucking Son.”

With that, Arthur took off the mic at his collar and handed it to Gaius. The tense silence broke when a final cheer erupted from the back of the crowd and everyone joined in. He got more than a few pats on the back and proclamations of love as he exited the pub.

The passages of Lower Camelot were empty and quiet when he got out. As soon as the door shut behind him, he looked to Merlin, who was bouncing eagerly on the balls of his feet.

“Lock the doors,” he commanded. With a snap of Merlin’s fingers, all three entrances—and all the windows—sealed shut.

By the time they reached the exit to the surface, Elyan had assured them quite a party was waiting for them.

“I don’t know about this, Arthur,” the techie said over the headset. “They’ve got about a thousand laser rifles pointed at the mouth of the alley.”

Merlin snorted. “That’s nine hundred ninety-nine for me and just one for the rest of you. I think you four can handle that, right?”

Percival rolled his eyes. “I can already tell how this is going to end.”

“Perce,” Leon warned.

“Don’t worry, Elyan,” Arthur ignored their banter, “Merlin and I have a plan.”

“Does it involve all of you staying alive?”

“Yes, actually.” Arthur nodded at Merlin. “Now is definitely the time, Merlin.”

“Yes!” Merlin cheered and jumped. “Yesyesyesyesyes!”

“The fuck...” Percival stepped away.

Merlin squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated. When he heard the first gasp, he figured it must already be working.

He opened his eyes and another Merlin stood in front of him. This one wasn’t as jumpy or sweaty as him, and actually looked a bit daft. Still, he only needed one simple command, and lasers would pass right through him, as though he were a hologram.

“Chaos,” Merlin told his clone. “Absolute bloody chaos! Go, go, go!” The Other Merlin took off running with a smile as wide as the original’s own.

As soon as the Other Merlin disappeared into the winter night, Arthur turned to consult the real one. “Um. I thought we discussed maybe a shield of some sort?”

Merlin waved his hand in the air absently. “Yeah, but this way is more fun. It’ll distract them so we can basically just walk right out and start bashing their skulls in. They won’t even know what’s happening, they’ll just starting dying!” Merlin laughed like he’d just told the funniest joke ever.

Arthur narrowed his eyes and put a hand to Merlin’s forehead. “You’re hot.”

“Yeah, so are you.” Merlin licked his lips suggestively and leaned forward for a kiss. Arthur stepped back but kept a hold on Merlin’s arm.

“No, I mean you’re sweating. Merlin, why are you sweating? What did you take?”

Percival groaned. “Oh great.”

Merlin bounced out of Arthur’s grasp. “I’m fine. I’m having a great time! Let’s just go, yeah? Come on, please please _please_ let me at ‘em. If I don’t break something soon I’m gonna lose it.”

“Of all the—well fuck, Merlin!” Arthur swore. “Alright, fine. But tell them before you go running in. At least let them know the advantage we’ve got.”

“Sir yes sir!” Merlin mock saluted and turned to face the other three Knights. “Okay, listen up! Well, Percival and Leon listen up. And I guess Elyan too way back at the Castle. Lance, you can go to sleep or something, since you already know.”

Percival rolled his eyes. Lance was more well-disciplined and simply crossed his arms.

“Are you watching? Okay, lookit my fingers.” Merlin snapped. “Magic dancing flame! Look at it go, yeah?” Merlin wiggled his fingers and the flame did indeed move with them, appearing to dance. Percival gaped.

“How in the—”

“Oh look, Arthur’s trousers are down!” Merlin pointed and Arthur’s trousers slid to his ankles. Arthur flushed red as a tomato.

“Merlin!” he fumed and pulled them back up.

Merlin giggled, bouncing excitedly. “Now look over there.” He pointed left and directed their attention to a floating crate. “Just kidding, that’s only a hovering box. Look this way.”

The shape of a dragon just like the hologram from the cube formed in the steam of a busted pipe. Merlin made the wings flap and the eyes glow red.

“Wow. Almost like magic, huh?” Merlin said, grinning cheekily. Arthur rolled his eyes.

“He just keeps getting weirder,” Percival muttered.

“Great. So, now that everyone knows I could basically do this by myself, _can we go now_?” Merlin begged Arthur.

Arthur grabbed Merlin’s arm and looked him in the eye one last time. “Remember the objective, Merlin. We’re fighting our way to the tower. This isn’t a game.”

“Not a game. Got it.” Merlin nodded.

“Minimum losses,” Leon repeated Arthur’s earlier words.

“Yeah, yeah, I know!”

“And please, for the love of Camelot, don’t do anything stupid,” Arthur said. “I love you, you idiot.”

“Arthur, if any of us die out there today, it’ll be Lancelot. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Gee, thanks,” Lance deadpanned.

“Nobody’s gonna die, Lance,” Percival reassured him. “You didn’t see Merlin at the last one. He’s like a fucking whirlwind.”

“Lance won’t be up front anyways,” Arthur reminded them. “He’ll be behind us, taking out snipers.” Arthur looked like he had more to say but one glance at Merlin and he held his tongue. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

“Whoo!” Merlin charged forward.

Nobody knew what to expect when they walked out into the night, but it certainly wasn’t for it to have started snowing. Arthur looked at Merlin to ask if this had been his doing or an act of nature, but Merlin looked just as surprised as the rest of them.

Only a thin layer of white had built up on the flattest surfaces, and it wasn’t sticking to the ground just yet, but Arthur had a feeling this was just the beginning. It seemed the Other Merlin had indeed caused “absolute bloody chaos” in the form of sneaking up on a sniper far above and making him shoot randomly into the gathered mass, then promptly disappearing.

The crowd of red-clad Protectors were now running about, searching for the scout and the rest of the Knights. They didn’t notice that the real Merlin and the gang had descended upon them until ten men had already fallen.

Merlin was indeed a whirlwind. Arthur barely saw him move, only caught glimpses of pale limbs and dark hair as Prots sank lifeless around him. His laughter carried on the wind though, and Arthur saw the terror on the faces of Protectors as they scrambled to get out of Merlin’s path. It ended up not mattering; Merlin could simply nod his head in their direction and snap their necks from afar.

Still, Arthur was relieved to note Merlin was moving steadily forward towards the tower. And it certainly made things easier when Merlin swept his arm out in front of him and sent an oncoming wave of reinforcements back with a forceful push. The other Knights had to rely on more traditional methods of stabbing, punching, and, in Lance’s case, shooting.

The snowfall picked up when they were halfway there. Behind them they left a path of bodies, red uniforms mixing with crimson blood that made the street impassable. As the precipitation piled up on the ground, blood turned the snow to slush. Still, they fought on.

Arthur could practically taste victory. His own adrenaline made his heart beat furiously, and one look at his comrades and he knew they felt the same. They were outnumbered and outgunned, but they were making steady progress. As long as they kept moving quickly, they could avoid being shot, but that didn’t stop the butt of the occasional rifle being shoved into their stomachs or a fist making contact with their jaws. By the time they were near the steps of the tower, all of them, even Merlin, were badly bruised.

The air never stopped being pierced by cry after cry of pain, or Merlin’s laughter, or grunts as they took each hit in stride. Even so, Arthur could clearly distinguish Leon’s howl from the others and immediately stopped beating in the face of a Prot to scan the crowd for him.

He found him just in time to see the responsible attacker freeze in place. The Prot’s limbs were stiff and unmoving as he stood above the kneeling Leon. Leon looked up at the paralysed soldier with as much wonder as Arthur, and as Arthur came closer he soon saw the reason for the Prot’s unnatural state.

Merlin was also making his way to Leon, with a fierce expression of determination and a grim, predatory smile. He stepped over corpses as though they were just mere rubbish in the road until he finally reached the frozen Protector still looming over Leon.

Arthur saw the flash of steel just as he too reached Leon: Merlin’s personal blade. Merlin pressed the cold, bloody edge to the back of the Prot’s neck and the unfortunate young man couldn’t move, couldn’t even shiver at the touch. Merlin’s smile widened and he turned the knife so that the tip pushed just slightly into the skin. He added pressure little by little, and still the Protector couldn’t move as his own neck was slowly gouged open.

“Make him...stop,” Leon gasped as Arthur bent down and helped him up with an arm over his shoulder.

“What happened to you?” Arthur asked, grunting under the weight of the former leader.

“Laserblade...in my side...Doesn’t feel too deep, but...fuck, it hurts.” Leon coughed up blood and Arthur looked down to see where Leon held his hand firmly over a bleeding wound just over his hip.

“Keep pressure on it. Come on, we’re so close.”

“Arthur,” Leon pleaded and glanced back at Merlin. The tip of his steel blade was finally poking through the other side of the red’s neck. “Merlin.”

“I know,” Arthur said, cringing as Merlin yanked his knife out and finally let the Prot fall dead. “But we have to keep moving.”

The snow was really coming down now. Merlin and Percival cleared the way for Arthur and the stumbling Leon as Lance picked off the snipers on the rooftops from behind. Arthur picked up a fallen Prot’s laser rifle and handed it to Leon so he could shoot every now and then as well. Finally, they were at the steps of the tower.

All fighting seemed to cease instantly as the doors were thrown open and Uther walked out. He looked so old, so much weaker than he had the last time Arthur had seen him. His face seemed to sag and his thin grey hair, usually so carefully styled down, whipped in the air. Even his voice, strong and regal before, was easily lost to the wind when he spoke.

“This has gone far enough. Stop this nonsense, Arthur, unless you want to die with the rest of these terrorists.”

“Nonsense?” Arthur shouted back angrily. “I’ll tell you what’s nonsense, Father. Experimenting with cancer patients to find a cure is nonsense. Feeding people poison is nonsense. Allowing police brutality and rape and poverty in the city streets is _nonsense_ , Father.”

“They’ve wormed their way into your impressionable little brain, I see. I had thought you were so much more formidable.”

“No, Father, it’s you who brainwashed me.”

“Brainwashed?! Will you listen to yourself?”

“My whole life you kept me in there. My whole life you drilled the importance of Protector training into me, kept me sheltered from the horrible truth, and then you throw me out to do your dirty work. Years of reading manuals and strength conditioning so you could have the perfect warrior, the perfect leader to one day take your place. Well, here I am, Father. Here I am to take your place.”

Uther narrowed his eyes and his lips straightened into a thin line. “You are a traitor, just as treasonous as these rebels you’ve allied yourself with. I will not hesitate to kill you, Arthur.”

Arthur clenched his fists and set his jaw determinedly, pushing down any remaining feelings he had for the man. Uther was a tyrant and had to be stopped. The entire city was counting on him. “Nor I you, Father.”

Leon beside him, still clinging onto Arthur’s shoulders, grunted and thrust the laser rifle into Arthur’s hand. Arthur took it grimly and Leon shuffled weakly over to Percival not far away. The bodyguard propped him up as a dozen pairs of eyes watched Arthur to see what he would do.

Suddenly Merlin was next to him. “Do it,” he stated firmly. “Kill him.”

Arthur took a breath and raised the rifle. Uther hadn’t moved. The few Protectors standing by shifted uneasily, waiting for the order, any order. But Uther said nothing.

Arthur frowned and lowered the rifle. “Something’s wrong,” he muttered to Merlin. “He would never stand there and just let me shoot him.”

Merlin grinned back at Arthur. “I’m holding him still. Go ahead, Arthur.”

Arthur’s frown deepened. “I can’t just shoot him when he can’t move.”

“Sure you can. He would.”

“I’m not him. Let him go and I’ll fight him fairly.”

Merlin’s grin disappeared. “This isn’t about fighting fair, Arthur. He’s responsible for thousands of deaths, millions of suffering, and you complain about wanting to _fight fair_?” Merlin tore the rifle from Arthur’s hands. “I’ll do it myself.”

“Merlin, no!”

It was too late. Merlin had already taken aim and fired directly between Uther’s wide, frightened eyes. Merlin threw the weapon down on the ground with a victorious shout as Uther fell.

All eyes watched as the lifeless dictator rolled down the stone steps. The corpse stopped at Arthur and Merlin’s feet, and Arthur realised with horror that that was all his father was now: a corpse. He was grateful the body halted face down. The shot went straight through the back of Uther’s head and there was blood spilling out of the wound, dripping down the side round his ears. However, even that was better than having to see his father’s lifeless face. Arthur shuffled back as the pool of blood beneath him spread outwards. Merlin didn’t seem to mind.

“It’s done,” Leon stated and his voice echoed in their headsets. “Mother, Gaius, relay the message. Uther is dead.”

Arthur didn’t have time to mourn his father too much. Later there might be a memorial or a pyre in the centre of the city to celebrate the victory, and then Arthur would allow himself to reflect. But now Merlin had suddenly crouched into a defensive stance and the Knights turned back to the tower doors. A man was walking towards them. He had his hands in his pockets and a lazy smugness in his eyes.

It was an average looking man that walked into the snowy night. Average height, average weight, with average glasses, and an average amount of wrinkles around his old, wise eyes. He walked straight up to Arthur and Merlin with a friendly smile and extended his hand.

“Merlin,” he greeted the scout. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Kilgharrah?” Merlin gaped in disbelief, feeling the comedown from his three hour high. A similar gasp went up throughout the rest of the Knights.

“No manners in the flesh as well, I see. Arthur,” he offered his outstretched hand to the Son. “Congratulations on your victory. I had faith in you as much as I did Merlin.”

Arthur took the hand, uncertainly. “Um. Thank you. I...have you always been in the tower?”

Kilgharrah smiled. “Oh yes. Many years. I have been by your father’s side since he was a Protector himself.”

Epiphany hit Arthur like a slap to the face. “You’re Kevin Warlow,” Arthur gasped.

“Yes,” Kilgharrah nodded and stepped aside to wave them in. “Morgana will see you now.”


	12. Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Here's to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The trouble-makers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They're not fond of rules, and they have no respect for the status-quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify, or vilify them. About the only thing you can't do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world - are the ones who do." - Apple Inc.

The tower was eerily empty and quiet as Kilgharrah, or Kevin, led them through. The lift ride to the main floor was tense as Leon’s ragged breathing filled the silence. The whole walk to Uther’s former office, Arthur had to wonder: had Morgana been behind everything from the very beginning?

Morgana was idly regarding the latest news on her tablet when they were ushered in. It seemed the news that Uther was dead had already spread from the ranks of Lower Camelot up to the wealthy in the upper class districts. Soon the media would flock to the streets for coverage. It was the July Riot all over again.

“Do you know what they’re calling this?” Morgana asked when Merlin and Arthur came to stand in front of the desk. It was a rhetorical question, obviously, and she answered it almost as quickly as she asked it. “The December Revolution.”

She looked up from the news and took in the sight of them, all the beaten and bloodied Knights standing in what was soon to be Arthur’s office, but was for now hers. She looked as impeccable as she always did, not a hair out of place, and one would not have thought a whole revolution had just taken place outside her very home. She was the picture of serenity, and when Kevin moved to stand beside her with his hands clasped behind his back, Arthur knew for certain that she _had_ known everything from the very beginning.

“Oh, don’t look so betrayed, Arthur. You should be thanking me. I told you Kevin and I were working on it. You did everything I knew you would.” Her expression softened the slightest bit. “I’m proud of you, little brother.”

Arthur could scarcely believe his ears, or his eyes for that matter. Morgana, proud of him? The last time he’d seen her she said he would have to kill Merlin and the rest of his new family. Now she was _proud_ of him?

In the awkward silence that followed, Leon’s breathing once again became obvious. Morgana’s eyes flicked to the wounded man and she instructed Kevin immediately, “Get Alator.” Kevin went without hesitation.

“Is he badly hurt?” she asked Percival, as he was still the one holding him up.

“A knife-wound in his side,” the bodyguard replied stiffly. Morgana stood and went to inspect for herself.

“I’ll live.” But even as Leon said it, he coughed up blood again. He weakly raised his head and smiled at Morgana. “I had hoped...but I couldn’t be certain.”

Morgana kissed his sweaty temple. “I said I had a plan to make everything better, didn’t I?”

“And I shall never doubt you again.”

“You’d better not.”

Merlin was the first to catch on. “Wait a minute, what the fuck?” Arthur had similar thoughts on the matter of his sister kissing the former leader of the Knights.

Kevin and the man that must have been Alator returned and took Leon away. Morgana turned to face Merlin with a smirk.

“Ah, the Mad Scout. Good to finally meet the one my brother has taken such an interest in.”

“You...know Leon?” Merlin asked what was on everyone’s mind.

Arthur, however was back in Leon’s chambers at the Castle, seeing the photo frame in a whole new light. Leon had slammed the frame face down when Arthur had tried to get a closer look. The brunette then...

“You dated _Leon_?” He pointed at his sister. “You were the girl in the photos?”

Morgana frowned. “Photos? I told him to get rid of all those.” She chuckled and shook her head. “Sentimental fool.” The insult was full of affection though, and had the hint of many past conversations about it.

She gestured to the chair she’d only recently vacated. “Well, Arthur, go ahead and take a seat.”

Arthur’s brow furrowed slightly but he did as Morgana said. He walked stiffly over to the chair and sat behind the desk. It had always seemed intimidating from the other side. Now it was large and even more daunting. The weight of responsibility Arthur had felt over the past few days leading the Knights was nothing in comparison to leading an entire population.

Merlin shuffled over to stand behind him and Arthur looked up. “What are you doing?”

Merlin gave him a smile, a genuine Ealdor smile. “What does it look like? I’m your Kilgharrah.” He even held his hands behind his back and tilted his chin with an air of importance.

Arthur laughed, and the sound eased some of the tension from the room. Leave it to Merlin to find a way to make awkward situations that much more bearable.

Morgana rolled her eyes and walked over to the window behind the desk. The sun was just beginning to rise over the shortest buildings off in the distance.

“It’s dawn,” she said flatly as she stared out at the horizon. “How utterly symbolic.”

Arthur swivelled in the chair to face the window. “You knew the whole time, didn’t you? Before Father even sent me out on the mission, you knew about the prophecy.”

Morgana tore her gaze from the cityscape and smiled knowingly at Arthur. “I started the prophecy, Arthur.”

The Knights gaped. “You?” Arthur echoed. “But it’s been around for years. That means—”

“Since you were just a boy, yes. Since you were fifteen to be exact. That’s when I came up with the whole plan.”

“And Father knew nothing about it?”

“Not even a hint. I suggested he should send you undercover to take them down, and the rest was left to fate. Or destiny, as Kevin likes to call it. But he’s always been dramatic like that.”

Merlin snorted his agreement.

“The only thing I didn’t plan was...well.” She gestured to the two of them by the ruler’s chair and they both blushed. Percival and Lance shared an amused look. “I knew you would do the right thing though. And you did.”

“Why couldn’t you just tell me? Those meetings in the hovercar, the camera lenses...you could have just told me your plan from the start,” Arthur said.

Morgana shook her head. “You had to come to the decision by yourself. You were kept from the truth your whole life. Experience is the best teacher. I couldn’t simply _tell you_ , as easy as that would have been. And doesn’t victory feel that much sweeter knowing you’ve achieved it on your own?”

Arthur grumbled. “I didn’t exactly do it on my own though, did I?”

“Of course you did. Kevin and I simply nudged you in the right direction every now and then. I have to admit, when I created the prophecy I had no idea you’d actually live up to the legend. As I said, I am proud of you, Arthur.”

Merlin gave Arthur another bright smile and ruffled his snow-dampened hair. “My hero,” he said in falsetto. Arthur pinched his waist and Merlin squirmed.

There was a knock on the door to the office and Morgana looked pointedly at Arthur. Arthur cleared his throat and tried to look important.

“Enter.”

The door opened and the man named Alator walked in respectfully. “Mister Pendragon,” he bowed his head briefly. “Leon will make a full recovery in a few weeks.”

“Excellent.”

Merlin tried and failed not to laugh at Arthur’s increased air of importance. Percival snickered as well.

“There is...also the matter that Miss Pendragon and Mister Warlow made clear to me a few days ago.”

Arthur glanced at his sister then returned his attention to the physician. “That being?”

“The Mad Scout’s mental disorder, sir, if I may be so blunt.”

Merlin stiffened and the tension returned full force. Arthur slid his fingers into Merlin’s nearby hand and stroked the skin with his thumb to try and ease some calm back into Merlin’s nerves.

“And what would you do about his disorder?” Arthur asked, honestly curious.

“I worked with survivors of the July Riot when it first happened. There were Protectors and relatives his age that I successfully treated. Most, if not all, have been able to return to lead fully stable lives.”

Arthur frowned and said what he knew to be on Merlin’s mind. “Merlin is different.”

“Yes, Mister Warlow informed me of his...unique abilities.”

“He did?” Arthur raised a brow. Merlin, too, looked closer at Alator.

The physician nodded. “For a young man to wield such power is truly remarkable. Though I’m sure he can be treated just as anyone else.”

Merlin slid out of Arthur’s reach and Arthur let him. He walked up to Alator and eyed him from all angles before addressing him.

“What would you know about my power? How could you even begin to guess what goes on inside my mind?”

Alator dropped his formal tone and spoke to Merlin as though they were the only two in the room. “Memories from the event creep into everyday life. They haunt your nightmares. Sometimes just walking down the street will thrust you back into the situation because it’s too loud.” Merlin’s eyes widened with each declaration. “You’ve built some kind of mental wall to try and block everything out, but it won’t hold forever. You’ve self-medicated with drugs for years to forget, but you can’t spend the rest of your life half-aware of your surroundings. And you don’t want to.”

“Wh—”

“You may have incredible power, but you are still as human as the rest of us, Merlin. I have no doubt I can treat you.”

Merlin had had his own doubts about receiving help from a stranger, but this Alator seemed to already know him. Everything he’d said was true. And he supposed if there was anything he couldn’t tell him, he could always “show” him with the same empathy link technique he’d used on Arthur.

“How long will it take?” Merlin asked.

“While I was attending to Leon, Kevin and I spoke briefly about your treatment. Leon mentioned he had managed to track down your trigger.”

“The girl I’m not supposed to see?”

“Yes. With her help, I believe we should be able to make good progress. Not until the final stages, of course, but she will play an important part in your recovery. I would estimate a year at the longest.”

Merlin turned around and wordlessly asked Arthur what he thought of the idea. Arthur smiled and nodded encouragingly.

“Alright. I’ll do it.” Merlin dug around in his pocket for the second molly he’d bought from Will. “One last go for old time’s sake?”

“No!” the Knights shouted in unison.

Merlin jumped at the volume and the pill slipped from his fingers. Percival promptly crushed it with his boot, much to Merlin’s dismay.

“W-Was only kidding, anyways,” Merlin said meekly.

Nearly ten months later, Merlin was roused from a peacefully dreamless sleep by the loud screech of an alarm clock. He groaned and tried to roll over but Arthur held him tightly.

“No,” Arthur pleaded in a drowsy voice like a petulant child. “ _Every_ morning, Merlin. Stay in bed just this once. It’s the weekend.”

Merlin was unshakable in his determination, though. He pulled Arthur’s arm off him, slipped out of the warm bed, and got dressed for the September morning.

“I’ll be right back. It’s just upstairs and you know it,” he said and kissed Arthur briefly. “I’ll give you a blowjob when you wake up. How’s that sound?”

“Like you better not be lying,” Arthur mumbled and buried deeper beneath the duvet to go back to sleep.

“Me? Lie to you? Never.”

Arthur said something else but it was jumbled with sleep and unintelligible. Merlin chuckled and padded softly from the bedroom to take the lift to the top of the tower.

The wind was cold but Merlin didn’t feel it. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt and joggers, along with a beanie that protected his large ears and kept his tousled hair in check. But for all that he was exposed to the autumn chill, the adrenaline pumping through his body kept him from noticing.

He loved this hour of the day, when everyone was just about to wake up. The dark sky was fading to pink over the city skyline, causing the tallest buildings to glow as the sun rose behind them. His city.

Okay, he didn’t _own_ the city. Arthur did. But it certainly felt like that when he looked out and remembered all the struggles he had endured and the obstacles he had overcome to get where he was.

His heart swelled with pride as he watched the sun rise over the metropolis skyline. He spread his arms, closed his eyes, and faced the heavens. He was close to the edge and looked like he was about to take the leap of faith straight into the pavement below, but he was really just about to finish his morning routine.

He drew in a great breath and yelled, “MY NAME IS MERLIN EMRYS. YOU ARE A COG IN THE MACHINE OF CAMELOT. NOW WAKE UP AND KEEP THE WHEEL SPINNING, YOU LAZY MOTHERFUCKERS!”

Merlin smiled one more time at the golden glow of the sun over the city, then ran to take the lift back down to Arthur and the waiting warmth of his arms.

_~The End~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! A link to listen or download the fanmix is available at the [LJ post](http://neuroticnick.livejournal.com/45948.html). As always, comments/kudos/internet hugs are appreciated <3


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